Lifting the Veil
by Deiph
Summary: Nick Burkhardt's secret life is making his partner suspicious, and a new influence upon Hank might just collide their worlds into one and place them both in danger.


**_Author's note:_ **This is a sequel to 'New Rule Awakened'. It can be read alone but would make for a much smoother read if you were familiar with the other first.

**…**

**...**

**Lifting the Veil**

In the darkness, the soft whisper of rain falling on pavement stones helped little to sooth the nerves of the Wieselgesicht huddled in a narrow doorway of a dead-end alley. Its eyes kept darting to the end of the street, out into freedom, but it knew it was never wise to run. The king could find it anywhere.

A small whimper escaped the Wesen's throat as the gleam off sleek panelling reflected in its eyes and a large black car glided up silently, coming to a halt beside it. The Wieselgesicht stared, frozen. Nothing moved for a few beats of its heart, and then the window of the car's rear door slid down and an impassive face leaned forward from within and fixed the Wesen with a cold stare.

"Your Highness..." squeaked the Wieselgesicht, shivering slightly in its coat as it jolted itself forward to bow to the man in the car obsequiously. "It was all a misunderstanding...!"

Renard raised an eyebrow at the unfortunate Wesen. "I doubt that," he replied, simply. There was a deceptive casualness to his posture and no mercy in his eyes.

Afraid of the growing silence that followed the king's remark, the Wieselgesicht tried again to save itself. "I know you told me not to leave food for the too-skinny children – I need to fatten them, not enough _meat_ on them–" Quickly it controlled itself and stopped the flood of words. "I've been good, I promise, Your Highness, I promise," it stammered, bobbing its head up and down nervously in fear, eyes wide. "I would never hurt the little ones..."

Renard just smiled. "I know you can't help yourself," he said calmly. "It's in your nature. But you lied to me before, as you do now. I know you haven't stopped, and that's not something I can allow."

"You...you have no proof!" the Wieselgesicht blurted, foolishly trying in desperation to avoid the inevitable. In its panic, it morphed into its true form and a sheen of heavy sweat glinted a sickly gray as it trickled down its weasely face. "I haven't strayed! Don't punish me!"

'Oh, _no_..." said Renard, that same disturbing smile still on his face as though he was vaguely amused by the idea. "I'm not going to punish you." The Wieselgesicht froze in shocked relief, confusion quickly falling into a sense of confidence, but before it could open its mouth to speak, Renard continued. "_He_ is."

He leaned back in his seat to reveal the Grimm beside him.

The Wieselgesicht cried out, terror and confusion flooding it with adrenaline as it registered Nick Burkhardt's slow, sharp smile as they met eyes. It was anything but reassuring.

It ran.

Or at least it tried to. Huge arms came out of seemingly nowhere and encircled its scrawny frame, holding the Wesen while it thrashed and cried out, trying to break free. Spinning its head around to an unnatural angle, the Wieselgesicht stared up trying to glimpse its captor. It regretted it immediately and fear burned through it as it found itself staring into the eyes of a Blutbad.

The Wieselgesicht froze, transfixed for a moment before the reality of its situation finally nailed home. It was surrounded by the Wesen king, a Grimm that had now exited the car and was casually walking around the black vehicle towards it as though stalking prey, and a Blutbad who was holding it fast. It had no chance of escape; its fate was in their hands.

"Have you killed any of the children?" Nick asked softly, having come to a stop too close into the creature's personal space for comfort. His eyes were only inches from the Wieselgesicht's own and were boring into it, making lies impossible.

"No," the hapless Wesen whimpered in reply. "I stop myself, I promise, I only fatten them up. I didn't kill – I wouldn't kill." Its eyes implored the terrifying Grimm for mercy.

"Do you _want_ to kill?" Nick questioned, his voice a little harder, still pushing. The Grimm reigned control and had barely blinked, and the Wieselgesicht was unnerved by the predatory attention focused upon it.

It struggled reflexively against the arms holding it before answering, not able to avoid the trap of the Grimm's stare. "Yes..." it whispered, shamefully. "But I wouldn't ever, as I know my place, I know the rules. Your Highness, _please_..." The final words were implored towards Renard, as though honesty would soften the king's judgement.

Renard sat in silence a moment, no movement in his expression to reveal his thoughts. Finally, when the Wieselgesicht could almost not bear it anymore, he spoke. "Your honesty is refreshing, for once," Renard said, the chastising of previous behaviour clear in his voice. "I believe that you don't kill, but you will stop luring children to feed them. You will leave them alone." He paused significantly, and let his eyes glance to the Grimm and Blutbad before returning to the creature. "If you don't, _they_ will make a meal of _you._ Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly! Perfectly clear! Thank you, Your Highness," gasped the Wieselgesicht, realising that it had been given a final chance and it was not about to disobey again. It didn't understand how the feared King of the Portland Wesen was working with a Blutbad and a Grimm_ – _a _Grimm! _– but it was cowed into obedience and knew it would do _anything_ to never draw their attention again.

Nick took a slight step back, a satisfied look on his face. "You can go, but you will _never_ speak of this to anyone. If you do..." He let the sentence hang. There was no need to finish. The fear in the Wieselgesicht's face spoke clearly that the threat had been understood.

A slight nod from Nick over the creature's shoulder was all it took for the huge body behind it to release its hold. The Wieselgesicht didn't even look back – it just _ran._

A low chuckle broke the silence after the frantic footfalls had disappeared into the night. Nick grinned up at Monroe who was looking far too pleased with himself considering he hadn't had to do more than act as a restraint to a creature only half his size.

"Enjoying yourself?" teased Nick, fire still sparkling in his eyes as the Grimm within him told of its pleasure.

Monroe shrugged, excitement clear in his expression. "Yeah, okay, you got me," he replied with a low chuckle. "It's kind of fun being the 'Big Bad' every now and then... to those that deserve it, anyway," he added quickly, and gave a little nod to Renard to let him know he wasn't about to push the canton rules himself.

Renard just smiled, though there was warmth and camaraderie in his eyes. Since he had fought side by side with Monroe three months ago when they stood against a rogue Schlafweber, Renard had found himself feeling a new bond of trust and familiarity there, born of blood.

The partnership between Renard and Nick had also strengthened well, and they had these short months later already found a smooth balance between how their roles would govern the Wesen world. Renard dictated the rules and Nick was brought in to drive fear into any that dared break them. Their partnership remained a secret and they were always careful to leave a subtle threat to ensure silence with anyone they revealed their true affiliation to. They had even put the extra effort in to track down any Wesen that still knew of Nick's true identity and silence them with a warning. It was far safer that way.

Nick found it easier than he thought to work as equals with the man who was otherwise his captain. There was something about his developed confidence in his Grimm abilities that brought an instinctive knowledge of where he must be in the Wesen world, and that was by Renard's side not underneath his thumb.

It could have been difficult to balance their two lives together but it wasn't. In fact, Nick felt his life was finally running smoothly. He had found the right balance between his two worlds, and Renard had his back in both which had the unexpected benefit of the captain being able to cover for him with Hank or Juliette when they wondered where he went when he disappeared night after night.

He knew Juliette was happier with him even though his work hours were becoming such that he barely seemed to see her anymore. She could sense his contentment though even if she didn't know where it truly came from. As for Hank, Nick reflected as he cringed slightly as the thought of his cop partner, he was suspicious of Nick's behaviour but as yet had not pushed him for answers which Nick was glad for.

And with Monroe, it had taken Nick a while and a few bottles of beer to get the Blutbad to admit it, but he was enjoying being more involved in Wesen life again, and was even relishing his new role. The beast in him missed the chase, and this new life was one where he could let it off its leash, knowing it was safe to do so and he could do no harm while Nick was by his side.

Renard was the surprise to Monroe, though. Just as the king had felt the bond develop between them since they fought, so Monroe did too. He never thought himself one to care about politics or those within it, but he did admit he respected the role the king held and the delicate balance he maintained every day. Monroe found he trusted him, too.

Renard was far darker than Nick, far more likely to live on the blurred lines, but Monroe could see his two companions were a good balance. Nick was the conscience and the light, and Renard dealt with reality as it was as he worked in the shadows to keep their world moving. Nick kept the king from crossing the line, and Renard in turn showed Nick a world of grey he could still accept, hidden between the black and white he had only known before.

The Grimm inside Nick was stronger now, too. It was fed by the knowledge that Monroe helped train as well as the skills that were now reawakened in its memory. Nick allowed it more reign now, his instincts developing further with each day. He knew when it was content, when it was hungry for vengeance, when it was sensing pray. It was a beast almost like those inside every Wesen, and as such Nick was always careful to never make a move that the humanity in him would regret.

As his life continued to transform, Nick had taken to wearing the Wesen blade that he had first used to kill the Schlafweber within a slim sheath hidden against his skin behind his gun holster. It now seemed right, somehow.

All three men had changed since those months ago, and they all considered it for the better. They were friends now, not just a team, and that was something that the two Wesen members were long unfamiliar with due to how they had once chosen to live their lives. As they met each other's gaze now in the darkened alleyway, they were all felt relaxed, safe and strong.

It was Renard who finally spoke. "Time to call it an evening," he said with a slight nod to direct his companions back into the car. "Another good night."

Nick and Monroe smiled their agreement and stepped forward into the waiting car. Nick pulled the door closed behind them and the silent driver heralded them into the embrace of the night.

The Blutbad, the Grimm and the King. The new rule.

...

At eleven o'clock the next morning Nick was back at the station, relaxing in his chair near Hank while listening to Captain Renard give a final briefing to the floor about their latest case. It had involved a pimp who had just been arrested for manslaughter after supplying a fatal drug to one of his prostitutes. It had been a relatively straightforward case to solve and they were all happy to have it fall into place so neatly.

"Good job, everyone," said Renard to the department's officers before giving a final nod to indicate the end of the briefing.

There was a relaxed air to the room as the crowd dispersed, pleased at the compliment. Nick following Renard with his eyes as the captain turned to go back into his private office, and then rose casually from his chair to follow him as he did so.

Nick entered and quietly shut the door. "Something else going on?" he asked, waiting for Renard to seat himself in his chair.

Renard didn't answer for half a moment, just sitting still and giving Nick a curious look. "Are you developing a Grimm psychic power now?" He raised an eyebrow. "Because I'm sure I didn't say anything to suggest this was anything other than a standard case."

A half grin turned up the side of Nick's mouth and he shrugged his shoulders. "No, not a Grimm thing, just good detection," he replied with cheek. "You look over to me more during briefings when you've found something Wesen you want to tell me about."

Renard smiled softly and thought, _Touché_. He would control his expressions better in the future. His old self wouldn't have been so clumsy. As he felt his train of thought go down that path he put a stop to it immediately, allowing himself a moment to remember that he _wasn't_ that person anymore. He was far stronger now, and far more at peace with his life, and it was the man – the Grimm – standing before him that was the reason for that. Sighing, Renard pushed aside his wandering thoughts and raised the topic at hand.

"You're right," he said, leaning forward in his chair. "There is a Wesen involved in this case. One of my sources let me know that the pimp we just arrested had a business partner – a Ziegevolk. This Ziegevolk is the one supplying the drugs which are laced with Wesen aphrodisiacs. These aphrodisiacs are toxic to humans and could kill in high enough doses as the pimp found out. Now, the Ziegevolk hasn't killed anyone yet but it's only a matter of time before he makes a mistake and does."

Nick understood immediately. "I'll give him a warning," he said, nodding decisively.

Renard looked amused. "You don't have to just _warn_," he said. "You can punish."

"No," replied Nick, shaking his head as though this was a topic he had already spent time internally debating. "My conscience is different to yours," he explained without judgement. "I'll always try to give them a chance."

"_One_ chance," Renard pushed.

Nick let the corners of his mouth play into a small smile. "Absolutely," he confirmed. "One chance only." He crooked his head and Renard could see almost laughter in his eyes. "I might be more lenient than you but I'm not stupid."

Renard smiled, accepting the answer, and Nick took his cue to leave the man to his work. He left the office and poured himself a cup of coffee before returning to his desk.

"What was that about?" Hank asked as Nick sat down.

"Oh, nothing important," Nick replied evasively, not fully giving his partner the attention he knew the man deserved. He instead began distracting himself with paperwork to wrap up the case, knowing short of a new murder being called in it should be a nice, uneventful day at his desk.

Hank leaned back in his chair and stared at his partner who was now engrossed in paperwork across from him. He mourned, not for the first time, the distance that had grown between them. There were secrets there now, and he couldn't understand why there would ever be anything that Nick would not trust him with. They had always been close and their partnership had been strong from the day they met.

But now... Now Hank knew Nick was holding back on him, and he was not only curious but hurt to be shut out of whatever was happening in his friend's life. It had begun perhaps half a year ago, not long after Nick's aunt had died, and at first he had just ruled Nick's strange behaviour off to grief. Now though, he wasn't so sure that was the whole story. He tried to fight the cop in him wanting to investigate, pry, dig into the suspicions he felt until he found out the truth, but he felt guilty at thinking the worst. He couldn't even imagine what Nick could be involved in as his partner was one of the most straight-forward, honest men he knew. Or at least he used to be. Something had definitely changed.

Hank sighed and found himself reflexively glancing over to his captain's office. Nick was also spending so much time with Renard in recent months, it was...odd. On the surface, there always seemed to be a legitimate reason for Nick's increased presence around the captain, and yet Hank's instincts told him – insane though it was – that Renard somehow was involved in the secrets that Nick was keeping. Hank and Nick were partners, so there seemed no reason as to why he would be excluded from work-related discussions with their captain.

Hank wondered how much his particular chain of thought was just pure paranoia stemming from unsubstantiated suspicion about his friend's unusual behaviour. After all, Nick was a good cop, and it might purely be that the captain was schooling him for a promotion, and Hank knew he would be nothing but proud of his partner if that was all it was.

...

Later that afternoon Nick had made his excuses to leave in order to deal with the Wesen drug dealer. The visit hadn't taken long. The man, while bold in his trade, was useless when faced with a Grimm invading his personal space and threatening him with a range of unpleasant consequences if he didn't stop dealing immediately.

Nick was now sitting in his car outside his home having just finished a quick call to Renard to let him know the drug dealer had been handled. It had been a good day except for the low lying discomfort he felt somewhere in the pit of his stomach which he knew well by now. It was the guilt of constantly lying to Hank and the rift it had caused between them.

He let out a low sigh and shook his head to try and shake his mood away. There was nothing he could do about it now, so instead he would face the one relationship he had somehow managed to make work, and that was with Juliette.

He left his car and made his way up to his front door, letting himself in. "I'm home!"

"Hey stranger, I wasn't expecting you so early," Juliette said surprised as she made her way downstairs carrying some files from the veterinary clinic she had been reviewing.

She was smiling so Nick knew the 'stranger' comment wasn't a jibe at his usual long absences from the home, though he was well aware that between being a cop and a Grimm, there wasn't much time left to spend with her.

"Well," he said, "I just wrapped up a case, so thought I'd come back and surprise you." He gave a winsome smile and walked over to draw her into a hug.

Juliette could tell he was happier, after so many tense months of seeing him edgy and secretive. It was strange, as she knew that while he had never told her what had been going on during that time, she could see that he had found peace with whatever it was and that somehow made it better for her too. He wasn't as tired or fragmented, and he was putting more effort in to re-establish their previously solid relationship. She wasn't sure what it would all mean in the future but for the moment it was enough.

As he held her, Nick was also thinking of their relationship, and he knew it was easier now that he had become better at lying, better at disguising his other world now that he understood what it was so he could carefully segment it away to keep her from harm. His partnership with Renard was the final piece that helped him relax, for with the king's protection and his own growing reputation in the Wesen world, Juliette was far safer than she had been when it all began. He still wasn't ready to dwell too long of the lies he told her or how their future could withstand them, so he focused on the present and reminded himself that the intentions he had were good and he hoped that would count for something.

"So...tell me about your day?" he said, as he pulled back and led her by the hand towards their lounge. "Don't hold back – I can handle it."

Juliette let loose a laugh as his teasing expression. "Really? Because I've just come back from neutering a dog. I can tell you _all_ about it if you want...?"

Nick crossed his legs reflexively as he sat down on the couch. "You know, perhaps we could skip that part," he quipped back with a grin.

"I thought so," she replied as she lay back against him and they settled into a comfortable afternoon talking about idle nothings.

...

It was very late in the afternoon and the sun had fallen to just above the horizon. Hank found himself walking through a small park near the station, hoping a change of scenery and a breath of fresh air would lift his mood. His earlier thoughts about Nick had bothered him as it did every time that mystery came to mind.

Suddenly he was jolted out of his growing calm as a man ran up to him, almost crashing into him in desperation as he lunched forward and grabbed hold of Hank's jacket collar desperately, fear and madness in his eyes.

"They're everywhere! The Wesen, they're real!" The man was breathing heavily, half yelling, half pleading as he stared wide-eyed at Hank. "Find the Grimm, you _have_ to find him! He's the only one that can protect us!"

Hank, momentarily caught off guard by the outburst confronting him, stared at the crazed man, his thoughts quickly going from thinking it was a drugged-out addict who had lost his mind, to suddenly realising it might be something else entirely. He knew the words 'Wesen' and 'Grimm'. They had been part of the case he had been involved on a few months previously and that meant this might not be as straightforward as it appeared.

"Calm down, it's okay," soothed Hank, re-finding his voice after the initial shock, and still trying to straighten his thoughts as he tried to pry the man's tense hands from his jacket. As he did so he saw blood, dark and expansive, seeping from beneath the man's shirt. "Oh, _hell_," Hank cursed, reaching quickly for his phone. "I'll call an ambulance..."

He let his voice trail off as he concentrated on dialling 911, but as he started he was body slammed from the side as another person rounded the corner of the path the crazed man had come from not moments before and came crashing into him. Hank grunted and stumbled, not managing to catch his balance before yet another shape rammed into both of them and slammed them all into the dirt ground. Hank fell hard, hitting his forehead onto the hard path as a flailing arm caught him from behind. He pushed backward, trying to fight against the pain and darkness clouding over his vision as the three man fought to right themselves in a tangle of limbs and dirt.

Hank forced his body over, trying to roll whoever was on top of him off, but as he did so he felt breath, heavy and choking, on his face and his eyes rolled back into his head in response. As his vision returned and refocused, Hank looked up and straight into a face that was not human.

Not inches from him was something part animal, hair covering its face, its eyes black and beady and its front teeth long and sharp. It was horrific and shocking and Hank froze, not comprehending what was only inches from his face, but then the world returned with a start and he reacted instinctively. He fumbled for his gun, squashed against his hip, drew it awkwardly and fired upward. The last seconds before Hank blanked out from a mixture of shock and concussion he saw the freakish face above him twist in pain and fall down upon him, dead.

...

"Hey, are you okay?"

It was the first words Hank heard as consciousness started to return. He didn't answer for a moment as he slowly took stock of himself. He had a blinding headache and some aches that didn't feel any worse than bruises, but other than that he felt well enough. He opened his eyes and as he did so his memory came crashing back to what he had seen last time his eyes had been open, staring upward above him. He panicked instinctively and pushed upwards to scramble backwards a few feet, somehow stumbling upright in the process.

"It's okay! I won't hurt you," said the voice again, and Hank forced himself to calm his pounding heartbeat and saw that it was just a human man standing near him making a pacifying gesture with his hands, concern on his face. "It's okay," the man repeated.

There was a moment as Hank stared at him, trying to piece together what had just happened, and then he remembered. "There was a guy, bleeding..." he began, looking around for his phone as he had dropped it when he had fallen to the ground. "We need to call an ambulance."

"He doesn't need one but I called one anyway – for you," said the man, still looking concerned about how Hank was reacting. "I called the police too."

Hank started shaking his head in confusion, still a little behind in what was taking place. "No, there's no need," he explained, patting the badge that hung around his neck. "I'm a cop."

The man just stared at him and then looked at something on the ground behind him. "Yes," he said slowly. "I did need to," and Hank finally turned around and saw why.

Two dead bodies lay behind him. One was the bleeding man and the other was another, smaller man Hank didn't recognise at all. And then he realised he did, almost. The inhuman face that had stared down at him with animal teeth and an angular hairy face had had a thick red scarf around its neck, and the man that now lay dead in the dirt did too.

Hank wasn't sure what to think. It was clearly an ordinary human male lying dead after Hank's bullet shot through him. It wasn't a creature at all. Did he imagine it all, fuelled by the bump to his head and the stress of the moment? It seemed unlikely as he was hardly a rookie cop and had been in far more dangerous and painful situations before. None of it made sense, but if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he would never mention a word of his possible hallucination to anyone as there was no _way_ anyone would believe him.

...

"Yeah, Burkhardt," said Nick into his cell upon answering it on the second ring.

Juliette was next to him, still on the couch, but now reading a book to wile the afternoon away before she had a night shift at the clinic to attend.

"_What_? I'm coming," he said as he sat upright, concern on his face. He was quickly on his feet and Juliette sat up too, worried.

"What's happened?" she asked, putting her book down.

Nick regrouped his thoughts in silence for a moment. "Sorry," he said finally, "it's okay. Hank's been involved in an incident but he's okay. I've got to go down there though." He began looking around for his keys before spotting them on the side table. He paused to give her a quick, tight smile. "I don't know when I'll be back..."

Juliette waved him off. "It's fine – you go; it's important. I've got to leave for work anyway." She stood to give him a quick kiss. "Love you."

"Love you too." Nick's smile ran through grateful into apologetic as he turned, grabbed his keys and strode out the door. His thoughts were now focused on work and he was eager to be on his way to the crime scene where he had just learned his partner was waiting, having just killed a man.

...

Nick arrived to the scene as night fell properly and the dancing lights of the ambulance and police cars in attendance flashed into his eyes against the darkened sky.

He looked around quickly and located Hank sitting on the back of the ambulance and being given a cursory examination by one of the medics. He broke into a jog to cover the ground between them and came to a halt in front of his partner. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Hank looked up as he shook his arm to get the blood flowing again after a blood pressure cuff was removed from it. He gave an attempt at a smile. "Yeah, just a little shook up, but not hurt."

Nick gave a tight nod, still not quite convinced. "What happened?"

Hank let out a low whistle. He was silent for a moment as though he was about to say something else but changed his mind. "I think I must've breathed in some fumes from something," he started, looking confused as he tried to recall the memories. "That guy ran into me..." He motioned to one of the two dead bodies that were being inspected by the coroner and forensics team, "and then two more men knocked me down. I think one of them was trying to kill me. Yeah... he must've been trying to kill me..." His voice trailed off as he became lost in memory.

"It's okay, we can go through this tomorrow," said Nick in concern, reaching out a hand to rest it on his partner's shoulder a moment. "You're in shock. You should probably go to the hospital and get checked out properly."

As he started to reach his hand under Hank's arm to encourage him further into the back of the ambulance, Hank pushed him away.

"No! No, I'm fine, I'll be fine." Hank paused for a moment to calm his voice down so that his tone matched the claim he was making. He forced another smile. "Sorry," he said apologetically, "I really will be okay. I'm not hurt and I'd rather get moving on the case."

Nick just stared at him for a moment as though deciding whether it was wise to let his partner have his way. Finally he nodded, and Hank took it as a cue to keep sharing what he knew of what was now their new case.

"Forensics have confirmed the first man I saw was stabbed." Hank motioned to the dead body again. "They've found the knife and if we're lucky we'll get some prints off it."

The look Hank was aiming at the second dead body was giving Nick an uncomfortable feeling. He couldn't quite describe it but there was a strange type of fear in his partner's eyes when he looked to the seemingly normal corpse. Nick decided to write it off to the shock of Hank having been responsible for killing the man.

Hank hadn't noticed Nick's stare though and instead continued his retelling of the afternoon's events. "If it wasn't for Mr Richter," he was saying, and pointing in the direction of the third man who had called the emergency services, "I don't think I would have really known what happened. He helped me."

Nick looked past the corpses and over to the far side of the scene where a man was talking to Officer Wu, presumably giving his preliminary statement of what he had witnessed not long before. Wu looked over and caught his eye, giving a nod to indicate he was finished there.

"You want me to take him back to the station to give a formal statement?" Nick asked, looked over at his partner. "You should go home..."

Hank shook his head. "No, I'd like to do it. He helped me so it's only right I'm the one to take his statement. I'll take him back there now." He looked around and suddenly realised he didn't have his car with him, so he gave a final reassuring smile at Nick and made his way over to Wu to try and source a patrol car to borrow for the return trip to the station.

Nick watched him for a moment, still feeling something was not right but he couldn't identify anything more than just his sixth sense whispering unease. Now that Hank had walked away though and Nick had time to clear his head and focus on the crime scene properly, a feeling hit him that he easily could identify. It was one that he had been honing in recent months. It was how the Grimm inside him whispered that a Wesen was near.

Looking sharply around, Nick's eyes finally rested down on the two dead bodies that lay in the middle of the taped off area. He eyed them intently but the feeling he was sensing was becoming weak and as he approached them it was almost gone. He stood looking down at the bodies for a few moments more in thought before moving off to find some relative privacy to call Renard.

The captain picked up on the first ring and Nick quickly updated him on the cop side of the case to which Renard replied that he would check in with Hank when the man arrived at the station to make sure he was as fine as he was claiming to be.

"There's something else," said Nick, after a pause to indicate a slight change in conversational direction. "I think there is something Wesen involved with this case."

"What have you found?" Renard asked, not doubting Nick's assessment for a moment.

Nick didn't reply instantly but gave a low exhalation before speaking. "I can sense something but I'm not quite sure... I can't put my finger on it." Frustration was clear in his voice.

"Don't worry," Renard replied calmly. "Your senses are still developing. It'll come with time."

"Yeah..." Nick grumbled, acknowledging the truth of the man's words but not fully able to let his annoyance in himself go. "But still..." he continued. "I wish I could focus it more. I think perhaps one of the dead men was Wesen. I felt something strongly then it faded away. Maybe I can't sense them for too long after they're dead...?"

He hadn't really expected Renard to have an answer for that, but the man spoke anyway. "Could be," he mused. "We don't really understand how it works, but as Wesen revert back to their human forms upon death then perhaps your ability to sense them as anything other than that goes at that point, too."

"Yeah, but either way," said Nick, wryly. "Doesn't help much at the moment."

"True," Renard agreed. "So just stick with being a cop and investigate that way until we find otherwise."

Nick gave his agreement and ended the call, confirming that he would return to the station as soon as he had finished examining the scene.

...

It was only a short drive back to the station for Hank and Mr Richter, and Hank took the opportunity to say what he had been meaning to since they finally had a moment alone.

"I wanted to thank you, Mr Richter."

"Call me Simon," said the man with a welcoming smile. "I'm just glad I was there when I was. I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner as maybe you wouldn't have been attacked..." He let his voice trail off, unsure of whether Hank wanted that moment mentioned.

Hank just shrugged and waved the man's concerns away. He wasn't sure quite how to answer so instead focused on parking his car and then directing Simon up to the homicide department and into one of the interview rooms. Just as he was about to enter behind him, Renard came from around the corner and motioned for him to wait.

"I heard what happened," the captain said, with concern on his face. "How are you?"

Hank just shrugged. "Honestly, I'm a bit shaken but I'll be fine," he admitted, deciding a half-truth was the best response. "I'd like to keep moving on the case." The look he gave Renard was almost pleading as though he knew his captain could easily decide to put him on the bench for this one.

Renard gave a calculating look but seemed to know that keeping Hank at work would be best for him. He nodded. "Okay, then tomorrow start looking into the relatives of the two dead men and see what comes of it."

Hank let out a quiet breath of relief and nodded his confirmation. "Okay," he said. "I've got a witness here now so I'll have an initial report to you soon."

After receiving Renard's assent, Hank turned and entered the interview room.

...

"So... For the record, your full name is...?"

"Simon Richter."

Hank was doing his best to be accommodating of the helpful man that now sat opposite him. "So, in your own words tell me what you saw happen tonight," he said, and rested back in his chair to hear the story.

Simon ran a hand through his short hair and gave an obliging look as he sat up straighter and brought his memory back to the crime scene.

"I was out walking and saw two men in a car park," he started, eyes slightly unfocused at the recollection. "One looked like he was threatening the other, and then I saw him pull a knife out and stab him." He shuddered at the memory. "I didn't know what to do, but the injured man somehow ran off and his attacker ran after him, and so I chased them both." He gave a self-deprecating smile. "I'm not a fighter so I don't know what I would have done, but I was just acting on instinct. Anyway, I caught up to them a block or so away in that park and we all ran into each other as you know, and I saw you shoot the man who stabbed the other guy."

Hank gave a nod, impressed at the man's bravery, but then Simon's expression changed to something else. "Is this being recorded?" He motioned around the room to indicate the possible presence of taping equipment.

"No," said Hank, a little surprised at the question. "No need at the moment."

"Good," Simon replied, and then he said the words that threw Hank completely. "You saw what it really was, didn't you."

Hank froze, caught off-guard as he thought for a moment that the man was referring to his hallucination of the terrifying animal-like creature, but he realised quickly that it was a ludicrous thought.

"Oh, you mean...that I saw that the man who attacked me was actually a mugger... or something?" he asked the man, momentarily confused but trying to regroup his thoughts.

"No," smiled Simon gently. "I mean the man who wasn't human."

Hank's jaw dropped. He was completely at a loss for words for a few too-loud beats of his heart. The man surely hadn't just said that. Because if he had... It would mean what Hank saw was real, and that wasn't something he could quite comprehend.

"It's okay," Simon continued, looking concerned that he had been too forward raising the topic in the manner that he did. "I've seen them too."

He waited and watched as Hank stared blankly at him, unsure even what to say.

"I get it," said Simon, nodding as though remembering when he had been in Hank's position once. "It's a hell of a thing to come to terms with, but that doesn't mean it isn't real."

The man sighed, ploughing ahead as best he could while Hank just stared at him, listening mutely.

"That thing that tried to kill you – it was Wesen." Simon started using his hands to describe its appearance as though to prove to Hank that they had both in fact seen the truth. "This one had flattened hair over its face, small beady eyes, elongated face," he said, to start the explanation. "Not human at all. Wesen is the name for all the different types of creatures that are around, and let me tell you – there are a _lot _of them. The beast that tried to hurt you was called a Schleierheber. It means 'Veil Lifter', as in it removes the covering from our eyes so we can see the world as it really is. Their breath gives us humans the temporarily ability to see these Wesen creatures for what they really are when they let their guard down. Handy ability to have, but sometimes I wish I'd never had it breathe on me."

Hank found enough voice to say: "It did that to you too?"

"Yeah," said Simon, "a few months ago when I was in Chicago. I'd been walking home at night and as I pushed my way through a city crowd I felt something push into me and then this hot, heavy breath in my face. I'd thought it was some drunk guy at first but then..." He paused to shake his head to demonstrate his shock and disbelief at what had happened next. "Then, I saw it. Like, _really_ saw it. And I just panicked and tried to get out of that crowd, and by the time I'd made it back to my house I was a mess as I'd seen at least three other creatures – each a different kind – that had been just walking past me, pretending to be human.

"Well, I didn't know if I was crazy or what to think, but I started researching like mad, trying to make sense of what happened, and eventually I found out these little clues as to what I saw. By this stage of course the effects of the creature's breath had well worn off – it only lasts about half an hour I reckon – but that was enough for me to match up descriptions of them to stories I'd found. There were some mentions in diaries, some on obscure sites on the internet, and some I heard as word of mouth from people almost too scared to talk to me."

Hank found himself nodding along though he wasn't quite sure why. The whole situation was crazy. Yet, here he was receiving confirmation that what he had hallucinated in fact hadn't been a hallucination at all.

"I'd heard of Wesen before," Hank said finally.

He tried to silently work out how much to admit to the man opposite him who was practically a stranger. When Simon widened his eyes in surprise, Hank explained. "A few months ago we had a case here where a serial killer was making references to Wesen and Grimm, but the best we could come up with was that it was all just some fantasy sub-culture that the man had been involved in. I can't believe it..." His voice cracked a little as his mind flashed back to the creature that had tried to kill him.

"I know," said the guy, sympathetically. "It's crazy but it's real." His eyes hardened slightly as he continued. "The Wesen are all demons you know – they're all evil. That one that breathed on me must've done it just for the fun of scaring me, and others that I've found out about since, well they're just as bad. Some are nightmarish beasts that kill people or would eat us for dinner."

Encouraged by Hank's enthralled attention, Simon continued. "I know I'm just one guy but I want to do what I can to protect my fellow humans. It just isn't right having these things walking around, eager to hurt us. It took a long time to find the Schleierheber again but I tracked it to Portland and was planning on confronting it. When I found it in the city it was threatening this poor guy who started to run. It chased him and so I chased it. When we rounded a corner to cut through this car park, I saw it stab the guy but he still kept on moving and stumbled into that park you were in. He must've ran into you and then we crashed into you too. After it breathed on you and you shot it and passed out, I called 911." Simon shook his head in wonderment. "It's lucky you were there, though you might not think so," he said. "By killing it you've saved a lot of innocent people from ever being hurt by it again. Though," he added in a more subdued tone, "I wish I could've done something to save that poor man who died tonight."

When Simon finally finished his story, Hank took a deep breath and let the silence take over for a moment to rest his racing thoughts. There was no way he could write what he had just been told into a police report so he had already decided that he would have to rewrite reality a little to make it seem like a mugging gone wrong. Fabricating an official report was not something he was comfortable with but in this extraordinary situation, he couldn't see any other way around it. A thought suddenly occurred to him as he was bringing his mind back over the events of the evening again.

"Have you found the Grimm yet?" he asked curiously. "When the victim came up to me he told me that I had to find the Grimm as only he could protect us."

Simon didn't look surprised at all, and just nodded. "Yes, I've definitely heard about Grimm. They're human but have the ability to see Wesen for what they truly are, and they hunt them down. There's not a lot of other information out there about them, but I had heard rumours that there's apparently one living here in this very city."

Hank raised his eyebrows. "So there actually is one in Portland?" he asked.

Simon nodded. "So I hear. I've been trying to find him. If anyone can help me stop these creatures then it's him. I know I can't compete with what a Grimm can do, but I still want to find him and offer my help. It must be a lonely life being the only person around knowing these demons exist and having to fight them off alone."

While he didn't say it out loud, Hank agreed with the man's words. There was a person out there who was working to protect the city, and presumably couldn't even tell his closest friends what he did as they would never believe him or at worst knowing the truth would frighten them and put them in danger. He felt a wave of sympathy the Grimm, whoever and wherever he was.

As Hank's thoughts continued along that vein, he started to formulate an idea at the back of his mind, though he wasn't yet ready to commit to speaking it. Instead he asked Simon another question. "You've chosen to give up your life to try and fight against these monsters and to join with the Grimm?"

Simon nodded. "It just seemed the right thing to do," he said. "I'm better at research than fighting, but I've been practicing combat skills and I'm improving. It would be great to –" He stopped himself from finishing the sentence.

Hank looked at him curiously. "Great to what?" he asked, trying to encourage the man to finish.

"No..." Simon began, smiling almost in embarrassment. "Don't worry. I nearly got carried away, is all."

'No," pushed Hank, leaning forward his chair. "Tell me. Please." He looked with all sincerity at the man who impressed him in his self-sacrifice to take such a difficult path in life.

Simon took a breath to compose his thoughts and then said: "It would be great to have an ally like you."

Somewhere at the back of his mind Hank knew that was what he was hoping the man would say. It was also the idea that had been trying to take form, but he had been resisting for fear that sanity had gone too far away that evening as it was.

When Hank didn't respond immediately, Simon decided to continue his explanation. "You're a cop," he said. "Not only can you defend yourself better than I can, but you have access to information and people that I don't. We can try and find the Grimm together. And," he added with a small shrug, "it would be nice to not be alone in this."

Hank took a moment to think it through. He knew what the man was saying by 'access' and he was hesitant to ever use police resources for anything other than official business. Yet, he could see that in a way this _was_ official business. If Wesen were known to the general population then it would be up to cops such as him to stop them from committing crimes. It was just that they were instead hidden from view, so he could hardly approach Captain Renard and ask him for permission to set up a special Wesen Crimes taskforce. He felt a little laugh try to escape him at the thought, though he could feel the nervous tension in the sound.

Realising he had waited too long to reply, Hank opened his mouth to speak but Simon spoke first. "You don't have to give me an answer now," he said. "I get it's a big decision, though I appreciate that you haven't rejected me outright. The only thing I ask though is that you don't tell anyone about this. They wouldn't understand and we can't prove to them what we saw – they'd just think you're crazy."

Hank had already realised that. He knew he couldn't tell Nick about this. It wouldn't be fair to him, and it might cause a further distance between them than was already there if his partner couldn't trust Hank's words alone without being able to see the truth with his own eyes.

If Hank decided to join with Simon to track down the Grimm, then he would do it to protect Nick and all the other innocent people out there. He had already made his decision.

"Okay," he said finally. "I'll do it."

Hank reached his hand over the table and Simon clasped it in his own, sealing the deal.

...

Nick returned from the crime scene about half an hour after Hank, and made his way into Renard's a seat opposite the desk, Nick began by giving his captain an update on what he had found so far at the crime scene. 'The knife victim is John Connell, and the man that Hank shot is Douglas Klein. I've already heard from forensics that there are clear prints on the knife and they belong to Klein," he concluded. "Looks like he might be our killer."

Renard nodded. "Hank's just left after interviewing Mr Richter. He seems fairly sure that this went down as it seems – a mugging gone wrong – Klein stabbed Connell then died when Hank shot him, but we want to investigate fully. No assumptions. For all we know Richter stabbed Connell and then wiped his prints and planted Klein's on the knife when Hank was unconscious."

Nick gave a small grin. "You're quite paranoid, you know," he said in a teasing voice, speaking more as the king's friend than the captain's subordinate.

Renard just returned the grin though there was a sharper edge to his. "I have to be," he replied with a slight, indifferent shrug. "Goes with the job. _Both_ jobs," he added with a raised eyebrow.

'True," Nick acknowledged with a wry grin. "Is that a subtle comment that I should be more like you?"

"Wouldn't hurt," said Renard with a small smile, knowing that was all that would be said. They had had this discussion a few times since becoming partners in the Wesen world, and in the end had agreed that they were both different people and could never fully expect the other to change to suit their own wants and moral lines. It was not a point of contention between them though; it was more something they both philosophically accepted about the other as just another facet of their partnership.

"So, _Captain,_" said Nick, his choice of title bringing the conversation back to police business. "How do you want me to proceed with the case?"

"Talk to the friends and colleagues of both victim's tomorrow; see what the connections are," Renard replied, formal once more. "I've asked Hank to speak to the relatives so we'll see what leads that may bring."

Nick nodded. "On it," he said. He rose from his chair and started heading for the office door. He paused. "You nearly done here? I can call Monroe..."

Renard knew what he was asking. Not long after they had become partners in the Wesen world, they had begun training together regularly, along with Monroe. They used a customised dojo in a converted penthouse owned somewhat circuitously by Renard, and located in a slightly run-down area of town in an otherwise nondescript building. The location was a useful disguise for what was ultimately a well-stocked medieval weaponry and richly designed meeting place.

Nick's Grimm instincts and skills were still developing, and both Renard and Monroe were dedicated to helping him reach his full potential. Renard knew that Monroe was only interested in his friend's best interests for survival as well as having an almost academic interest in learning more about a breed of people that had previously been considered fairytales themselves.

Renard on the other hand, while he also had those motives, admitted to himself that he had slightly more strategic reasons for wanting to know the Grimm's full potential. There was a time in the past that he wouldn't have felt anything other than an almost Machiavellian pleasure in knowing others' strengths and weaknesses, but Nick had affected him more than he had ever expected. Renard's developed conscience now made him feel guilty at harbouring any less than pure thoughts about his motives for helping train the Grimm.

He sighed quietly to himself. The old Renard would have been bothered by what he would probably have seen as a weakness, and yet his developing moral code and friendship with the Grimm and the Blutbad actually, much to his surprise, made him stronger. He had been too long in politics, alone. He had forgotten the power and peace in turning away from the world of endless machinations and forging an allegiance based in true friendship.

"I'll be right behind you," Renard said finally to his partner with a nod.

Nick gave a pleased smile and let himself out of the office, anticipating eagerly, as always, the night ahead.

...

Darkness was heavily upon the city by the time Renard arrived at the nondescript building and took the old elevator to the twenty-second floor. He strode out to unlock the solid metal slab that served as the door to his private penthouse.

Inside the room was almost unexpectedly spacious. It had a high ceiling and was designed with sharp, sleek lines mixing dark metal and rich wood. The near area serving as a dojo, and the rear corner set out as a library and lounge to relax in after a long session sparring. The windows were glass panels floor to ceiling and stretched the length of the room though they were tinted one-sided for privacy from the outside world. It made for an incredible view, and the city lights outside shone like brilliant torches reflected against the dark wood panelling of the inside walls. Weapons were displayed against those walls, either hanging from hooks or laying flat on oak and metal cabinets that stretched along the way.

As Renard let himself in the penthouse, he saw that Nick had already arrived and was training alone. Renard had given him a key of his own only a month before, and Monroe had received one also. That was another thing Renard knew had changed within himself. This place used to be his secret sanctuary where he could keep his skills honed alone or with trusted servants. It had never been a place for partners or friends. But now...

Renard found himself quietly studying Nick who was practicing with a mace to splinter crossbow arrows coming at him from a makeshift firing machine. It was impressive to watch, and while Nick hadn't turned his head to notice the king's arrival, Renard knew he must know he was there. His Grimm partner had become quite skilled at sensing Wesen, and he was at his best when focused and battle ready.

"You just going to stand there or join me?"

Nick cocked his head to the side and gave Renard a lopsided grin as he spoke. He hadn't paused in his concentration on the ongoing barrage of arrows, but he spoke only when the final one he had rigged to fire did so and he sent it splintering with an unnaturally fast swing of his mace.

Renard gave a low chuckle and shrugged his suit jacket off, walking a few paces to throw it casually over a long support bar attached to the side wall. He then unbuttoned his white shirt and threw it in the same direction, leaving him with only the black singlet underneath that he wore to work on days he knew he would be sparring in the evenings.

"Show me your best, _Grimm_," he challenged, smirking as the beast within him sat to attention and pawed for release.

Nick watched the king's movements as the man strode to the wall to select a long sword from a selection displayed on metal stands. Turning around he walked back to Nick with a predatory grace. Nick let his grin become wider.

There wasn't any obvious tell in either of them to signify the start of the sparring match, but they both attacked at the same time. Renard leaped forward and swiped at Nick, feigning his first move to try and catch his partner off-guard. Nick expected it though, and jumped backwards out of the way as he spun and caught Renard a glancing blow to his side.

They never used modified weapons in their fights. Renard insisting that the cold fear of a real threat made for sharper learning. He was not wrong, but though the brutality of their fights was fierce, they always pulled the full force of the blows when using weapons that could kill. The aim was to bruise, however roughly, and Renard certainly felt the beginnings of one on his ribs as he grunted and retreated a step.

He narrowed his eyes but didn't move forward, instead waiting for Nick to make the first move. It didn't take long as Nick never had the patience to hold back, something that Renard had reprimanded him for before and the Grimm was slowly learning but not fast enough. As Nick thrust forward again, Renard grabbed hold of his arm and twisted it backwards, forcing him around and making him drop his weapon.

Nick let out a frustrated cry, annoyed at the mistake he had made but recovered instantly as he kicked backwards, letting the Grimm inside him channel him strength enough to force the king to release his hold.

They continued like this, thrust against parry, brutal kick against punch, struggling and wrestling against each other while all along it was clear they were quite evenly matched. The Grimm at his full strength was equal to the power of a king, and the sparking fire in their eyes danced as the adrenaline of the fight coursed through them both.

In the thrill of the battle they almost missed hearing Monroe arrive.

"Gee, I'd hate to see how you'd fight if you _really_ meant it," Monroe commented, wincing as Nick was hit in the shoulder with the flat of Renard's blade.

Both men stopped as suddenly as they had started, pulling back to pant loudly and wipe the sweat from their faces.

"Monroe!" exclaimed Nick, thoroughly animated after the thrill of the fight. "Join us?"

Monroe shrugged off his jacket, but stayed where he was. "My day was good, thanks for _asking_," he mock grumbled. "Really, sometimes you're no better than your ancestors: Fight first, ask how you are later..."

Nick laughed, the sound echoing off the wood panelled walls. "And how _are_ you?" he said, clearly humouring his friend.

Monroe pulled a face. "Good," he admitted, feeling he should have picked a better adjective after the fuss he had made. "What's new with you both?" He let his gaze fall over to include Renard as well, who had walked over to a side cabinet upon which rested bottles of water. He was in the process of drinking one to cool himself down.

"We got a new case today," Nick started slowly, looking more serious as he walked back over to the wall to return the mace to its stand. "There's something Wesen about it but I couldn't get a fix on what it was. Might have been the victim though, but otherwise it's a straightforward case so far."

Renard nodded his agreement. "Nothing you need to be involved in yet," he confirmed as he finished his drink and returned back to face Nick.

They were both weaponless now and Renard decided to test Nick's readiness by thrusting his arm out unexpectedly and wrestling his partner into a headlock. It didn't last long as Nick somehow managed to twist his way out and had danced away a few steps, letting out a triumphant cry.

Monroe watched them circle each other as he readied himself to join in. "Do you ever think that one day you'll regret training together, if you ever have to fight each other for real?" he asked casually as he walked up, not fully thinking of what a loaded question that was.

Renard stopped his movements and stood quite still, a darker more closed expression on his face. As he opened his mouth to respond, Nick, who hadn't noticed his partner's change, spoke instead.

"Never," he said, without hesitation, his face the picture of open honesty. "Why would we ever fight? He's my partner and my captain and I trust him with my life."

There was a different type of silence coming from Renard now and Monroe knew exactly what it was. It was an emotion he had felt many times before with the Grimm, and a small, almost wicked grin crept onto his face. "How about _you_?" he asked Renard with overdone innocence.

Renard let his expression turn into a scolding glare at the Blutbad. While Nick seemed oblivious to the change in the air, Renard knew exactly what Monroe could tell he was feeling. Guilt. He let out a quiet sigh. The old Renard – the manipulator that knew only power plays – had schooled him with thoughts that veered from the valuable knowledge he could gain by learning how the Grimm fought, to warning him on training the one that might want to kill him one day.

And then Nick opened his mouth and spoke with simple trust, and Renard's old self was shamed to the core.

"Feels _just_ like kicking a puppy, doesn't it," Monroe smirked, still far too pleased at the king's internal discomfort.

Renard considering turning up the glare but it was hardly worth it. The Blutbad was baiting him and he knew it.

Nick on the other hand was confused about the nuances taking place in the predominantly unspoken exchange between the two men. "What?" he said finally, starting to feel a little self-conscious. "_What_?"

Neither man answered, and when Nick started to protest again, Renard just picked up a battle axe from its stand on the wall and indicated with the nod that it was time to spar again. He resolutely ignored Monroe's quiet snigger directed at his retreating back.

...

They continued sparring for a while, Monroe and Renard taking turns as Nick's opponent, and occasionally challenging each other to further develop a sense of familiarity with their differing fighting styles. Monroe was a straight-forward, brutal fighter when provoked. He attacked directly and moved fast and powerfully. Renard was more strategic, full of feints and vicious jabs, each precisely aimed and potentially lethal. Nick was different to both his companions – he fought strongly with his emotions showing with each attack he made.

Each of their styles had their own strengths and weaknesses, and they were all frank with each other about pointed out any opportunity to better their skills. Nick had learned quickly that the other two men could easily anticipate his moves, and so he schooled his expressions to be less revealing of his intentions. When the beast in Monroe took too much reign, Renard was quick to take advantage of the Blutbad's lapse in control accompanied by his lessened ability to access the shrewd analysis of the human mind. Renard, who in some ways was the most accomplished combatant of all, was not long humbled by realising that his own style, while highly efficient, was one born from isolation and distrust. He fought like a warrior alone, and it helped him when he paired two against one. It made him realise there was a new source of strength he could access by trusting and adapting his style to complement his chosen partner, so together they presented an almost undefeatable front.

They were all learning much from each other during these regular sessions together, and it was not all related just to their battle aptitude.

While the core of Nick's lessons remained the same – the aim being for him to practice his ability to channel the power and knowledge of the Grimm – both Renard and Monroe knew the importance of introducing unexpected elements.

Renard was now instructing the fight, and he stood watching Nick and Monroe spar without weapons. Monroe was, as usual, letting his inner beast take reign, and Nick was not only working hard to stay out of reach of the Blutbad's superior strength, but to avoid his sharp teeth that had the instinct to bite. Nick was fairly sure that Monroe could control himself from causing any damage, but he thought it wise to not tempt fate.

Nick's ability to channel the Grimm inside him was already far stronger; the link he had to it was now an almost natural flow to his sixth sense. The power he pulled from it gave him strength and speed outside what he usually could access, and as he fought with Monroe, he needed every ounce of it to move faster than the claws that slashed at him, and he attacked harder to force himself closer to a victory.

Nick used to feel a sense of despondency at the incredible challenge of even being able to break level against Monroe when his friend was in his true form, but as Renard often reminded him – Blutbaden ranked amongst the strongest of the Wesen world, and Monroe was impressive even within his species. The fact that Nick could even challenge a Blutbad unarmed at all showed the power of the Grimm he now was.

Nick reminded himself of this now, as he dodged under Monroe's arm and spun around unnaturally fast to kick sharp and strong into his friend's lower back, directly into the dense junction of nerves that served as a vulnerable area in their species. Monroe roared and stumbled, but as he fell he twisted his body and managed to grab hold of Nick's neck, dragging them down to the floor together. They wrestled in a wild tangle of limbs and fists, both holding back only as far as to not cause serious damage, but not far enough that the fight was not brutal.

As Nick's lessons weren't just about fighting, Renard kept stressing the importance of Nick keeping his senses open so he could identify potential incoming threats. Now, as Nick struggled on top of Monroe, he suddenly froze. An unidentified Wesen presence was in the room and the Grimm inside him was calling him to attention.

Monroe mistook Nick's hesitation for uncertainty in their fight and quickly slammed him over and on to the floor.

"No, wait!" Nick yelled, trying to snap Monroe's attention back out of his animal instincts. He twisted his head around to gaze around the room and as he did so he saw what his senses had warned him of – a new Wesen. "Monroe... Get off me!"

Monroe's ability to control himself was already strong from his years of self-imposed temperance, and he slowly shook himself, clearing the haze from his mind, and brought his features back to those of a human. He looked in the direction that Nick was staring and gave a slight jolt as he also saw what had caused his friend's reaction. He quickly pulled himself up from the floor, freeing Nick in the process.

They both stood silently for a moment, taking in the fact that Renard wasn't at all concerned about the intrusion as the stranger stood silently near the king. The Wesen was a pale, skinny man, quite nondescript in appearance. He appeared at first glance not to be threatening, though they both knew appearances could be deceiving.

"Good," said Renard, breaking the silence. He was looking at Nick with something akin to approval and interest in his eyes.

"What?" Nick replied, confused and still slightly on guard.

Renard smiled the half-smile he favoured when he was enjoying exploring theories. "This is one of my loyal... staff," he explained, making the word 'staff' sound more like 'servant'. "I didn't tell you I had invited him tonight as it was important you weren't aware he was coming. It was a good test for you."

Monroe let loose a small growl at the back of his throat, the animal in him threatening to make itself known again. "What is he? He has no scent." He said the words accusatively as though the new Wesen was withholding his smell deliberately just to deceive him.

"He's a Versteckter Geist," explained Renard, though Nick felt that was hardly making anything clear.

"Hidden Ghost..." Monroe translated almost to himself, though he looked impressed. "I've heard of them. I thought they lived in colder climates. They..oh." He paused as he realised a fact about them. "They have no scent."

"Exactly," Renard said. "No scent. No distinguishing features. Nothing that makes them stand out at all. Easy to forget. Easy to miss."

"Except by a Grimm," finished Nick, whose mind was sharp enough to realise why Renard had brought the man to their training session. "You wanted to see whether my senses could identify his presence."

Renard nodded. "I wasn't sure whether you could as Versteckte Geister are born in a manner that seems to shield them from the usual methods of discovery, such as a casual glance or a scent in the air. Monroe's sense of smell is far superior to yours, Nick, but you can sense in ways that Monroe can't, making you almost impossible to ambush."

They both nodded, somewhat impressed and realising the importance of what Renard has organised for them that evening. Having the king on their side was beneficial as he naturally thought outside the immediate possibilities and that was an advantage for them all.

"Thank you, Sebastian, that's all," said Renard, giving a short nod to the man that stood beside him.

"Sire," acknowledged the Versteckter Geist formally, and turned to leave the hall as silently as he had come.

...

Something about Sebastian's exit gave them all the unspoken decision that the training session was over for the evening. Monroe let out a loud exhalation of relief, reaching his arms high in the air to stretch the lingering aches from his muscles. Nick went to gather the few weapons still lying where they had fallen on the wooden floors, returning them to the stands they had come from.

Renard made his way down the far end of the lengthy room where the lounge area was, and an oak cabinet of drinks waited invitingly. After selecting their usual choices, he bypassed the nearby chairs, instead walking over to stare out the large windows that reached floor to ceiling, framing the dark, sprawling city outside.

Nick and Monroe came over to join their companion, standing quietly next to him after accepting the bottles of beer he had just offered. Renard had chosen a glass of single malt scotch for himself and he took a small sip, savouring the taste. The view was magnificent outside, with the high rise buildings and sparkling lights of city life shining in the darkness outside. It was both beautiful and peaceful to them in those moments of stillness.

Nick gave a sidewards glance to Renard who stood like the king he was, surveying his city. He had a silent presence to him when he was focused like he was, and his eyes looked far older than they otherwise betrayed. Turning his head to his Blutbaden friend on his other side, Nick reflexively smiled, seeing there was nothing more than a strangely innocent interest in Monroe's eyes as he watched the moving lights of the cars and the shadows of pedestrians below. Nick turned his head back to the window, thinking of the humans and Wesen walking amongst each other through those dark streets, and he knew he felt an obligation to them now, his life now forever entwined in both worlds as it was.

He turned away from the window and made his way casually over to the generous leather chairs that were grouped facing each other in front of wood-panelled shelves that reached to the ceiling and were lined with fascinating texts, some ancient, some new, written in both human and Wesen dialects. He leaned over to sit his beer on the low oak table in front of his chosen chair, and then sat down, breathing a small sigh as the slight ache in his muscles relaxed after the evening's training.

Renard stirred from his reverie and turned his head slightly towards Monroe, and both after some silent acknowledgement walked over to sit with Nick under the low amber light that shone near the bookshelf behind. They relaxed in easy companionship for a while, talking a little about their work and lives and letting a half hour pass them by.

Renard absentmindedly let the remaining liquid in his glass swirl around the inside, watching it move as he enjoyed the peaceful moments. "How's your reading going?" he asked finally, referring to the extra study Nick and Monroe had been undertaking since Renard had granted them use of his library. Nick found the texts a trial to read but he knew the importance of being as informed as he could about the Wesen world, and Renard's tomes detailed much more of Wesen politics in particular than his Grimm library held.

Nick rolled his eyes up to the intimidating collection behind him, knowing even after a few months he was barely a quarter of the way through them as he tried to study them in as much depth as he could. "It's like being given homework again," he joked, with a pained expression, "but it's going well when I can find the time to read."

"It's _brilliant_," Monroe interjected, his eyes shining with academic delight. "_Dude_," he added, shaking his head in over-exaggerated offense at his friend's reaction, "you can be so plebeian sometimes. The works he's got here are _incredible_..."

Renard hid a smile and cleared his throat before the Blutbad could become too carried away with a detailed analysis of every interesting fact he had discovered so far in his studies. "You're of course welcome to stay and read them..." the king began.

"...though it's been a long day," finished Nick, with a sly grin to the Wesen king, "and we really shouldn't be imposing on Renard's time too much," he concluded with a pointed look towards Monroe.

Monroe just grumbled and rolled his eyes. "That wasn't even beginning to be subtle," he said, feeling a little ganged up upon, "but _fine_, I can take a hint." Finishing off his last gulp of beer, he sat the bottle on the table and pulled himself slowly from his chair. "And there I was just getting comfortable," he couldn't help but add under his breath but loud enough for both his companions to hear.

Nick, rising from his own chair and choosing to ignore that last comment, instead caught his friend's eye and said: "Meet at yours tomorrow evening?"

They used Monroe's house more for socialising, rather than the hall which they reserved predominantly for training and study. Monroe, in the early days of this arrangement, had spent a considerable amount of time complaining about the invasion to his territory, but it wasn't long before Nick in particular had managed to make him admit that he was enjoying the company.

"If you _must_," Monroe grumbled in what he realised was a slightly petty reply, but much to his disappointment it went straight over Nick's head and the Grimm just beamed at him in genuine pleasure at his friend's acceptance. Monroe felt his usual spike of shame after Nick's reaction.

As Renard rose from his own chair and they all strolled slowly towards the doors to leave for the night, the king leaned silently towards Monroe and murmured: "Feels _just_ like kicking a puppy, doesn't it?" before walking on.

Monroe's glare at his back had no effect at all.

...

Meanwhile, across town, Hank had taken an early night in the hopes that a good night's sleep would settle his racing thoughts and calm the world that had just flipped upside down on him. He fell heavily asleep as the adrenaline left his body but his dreams were filled with nightmarish creatures stalking him, all while he was unable to find any way to kill them. The dead man's words echoes through the night at him: _Find the Grimm_.

He woke with a start, sweat pouring from him as the hazy first light of the breaking day crept into his bedroom. Hank shook his head and groaned, trying to clear the madness of jumbled thoughts from his mind. Eventually he faced the inevitable and pulled himself from his bed, stumbling slightly with tiredness as he made his way into his bathroom to take a shower, allowing the cold water to force him awake.

The sun had risen to bring a better light to the day when he returned to his bedroom and dressed. There was no point stewing alone in the quietness of his home when he might as well be productive and distract himself at work instead.

It only took him a short time to grab a quick breakfast and make his way into the station. It was still far too early for Nick to have arrived, and the open floor was quite empty of most of its usual contingent of workers. After grabbing a coffee, Hank took a seat at his desk and stared blankly at his computer screen as he took his first few sips of caffeine, waiting for it to take effect. As he did so he thought there was one sensible thing he should begin the morning with, and that was to run a background check on Simon Richter. He instinctively believed the man was telling the truth about not only the Wesen world but also his desire to help hunt them down, but Simon was still a person of interest in their police investigation and it would be lax of Hank to not know as much as he could about the person he was able to enter a secret partnership with.

He typed the necessary details into his computer, and then began making a few calls to people, some of whom were a little irritable about being called so early. As he worked, Hank found there was a tension in his stomach that took him a moment to place. He realised what it was. He didn't want to find anything bad about Simon; he _wanted_ the guy to be good as he was actually eager to begin helping him in his fight against the creatures that wanted to hurt humans. And more than that, he wanted to find the Grimm. He needed Simon's help as much as Simon needed his to track down the man who was born to lead them in this war.

His final search finished running on his screen and Hank let out a breath of relief. Simon was clean.

He reached over to his phone and dialled the man's number. "Hi… It's Detective Griffin. Can we meet?"

…

Not long later, Hank found himself sitting in Simon Richter's living room. When he had pulled up outside the house he had almost thought he had the wrong address. It was a large white mansion, past its prime but still impressive to view. After Simon had answered the door and they made their way inside, Hank found out it was in fact Simon's great aunt's home that he was using while in Portland and she had recently moved into a nursing home across town.

Hank felt comfortable talking to the man, but after their small talk was exhausted he was eager to get to the matter at hand.

"So, do you have a plan?" Hank asked as they sat together in the overly large room, with its old dusty furniture and overbearing silence. His voice sounded a little too loud but that might have been his nerves.

Simon cleared his throat and leaned forward, his eyes showing confidence. "I do," he said. "I think we're in agreement that we need to find the Grimm?"

Hank nodded. "We need his skills, but I was thinking that it's probably best we don't start working on his turf without his permission. I mean, it might just be the cop in me, but while we don't know what this Grimm is like as a man, I do know that most people involved in wars tend to appreciate knowing what's happening in their area." He shrugged and gave a slight grin. "Just don't want to piss him off," he concluded, pragmatically.

Nodding along, Simon eagerly showed his agreement. "That's smart," he said, "though I think we might need to make ourselves known a little just to get his attention."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Simon began. "Since arriving in Portland last night, I've already spent most of the time after leaving you searching out the main places Wesen hang out here, like bars and the like. I'd already had some leads on good places to try before I'd come here, so it hasn't been that difficult."

"You walked in bars full of Wesen?" Hank exclaimed in surprise, not sure if he was awed or appalled at the man's boldness.

Simon just nodded and shrugged as though it was no big deal. "I find that now I can't see them for what they truly are anymore that it's easier to speak to them. Not as terrifying when they just look human," he clarified with a crooked grin, acknowledging the logic of his words was lacking somewhat but it was the best answer he could give.

"Anyway, they don't know I know what they are, so it means they're not on their guard," he said, continuing his story. "It didn't help though as even though I managed to corner a few of them and kill them, I first tried to question them about the Grimm and what they knew of him, but no one talked. They either didn't know or they were too scared of him to admit where he was. That would be a good sign though, as if they were too scared of the Grimm to admit information that might have allowed them an easier death, that speaks volumes about how terrifying this Grimm must be to them."

Hank started to feel shock that Simon admitted so freely that he was essentially torturing and killing these creatures, even though he knew what he had signed on for. He couldn't judge the man though. He doubted these demons would speak freely or want to help humans kill others of their kind. It might not be easy work, but sometimes taking the difficult road was necessary. Hank had rarely had to do anything that lost him sleep during his time as a cop, but he had seen enough in his life to not be naive about the realities of maintaining the advantage in the fight against evil.

"How can you recognise Wesen now you can't see them anymore?" Hank instead asked curiously, hoping for answers that could help him be a more effective member of their new partnership.

Simon just pulled an expression indicating it was not an easy thing. "I've studied hard," he said. "As I can't see them, I found out as much about their natures as I could. Like for example," he continued, leaning forward a little in his eagerness to impart knowledge, "there are these creatures called die Atztrolle that are horrible heavyset beasts that are addicted to sour foods and have these odd greenish birthmarks on their cheeks even while human. Then there's die Scharfzahne that are nasty wiry things like alligators that snap their jaws together all day – _snap snap snap_ –" Hank jumped slightly at the punctuated noise. "Well, if you catch them unawares you can see them eating small animals raw. They just pick them out of alleys and crunch them right up."

Hank stared at Simon, horribly engrossed in the images conjured by his words. "Can they be killed the same way as humans?" he asked. "I mean, I shot that one that tried to kill me, but if they're all different..."

Simon let out a breath before answering. "It's not always that simple," he admitted. "Some die easily, some are far tougher. Some aren't even affected by bullets so you need to find the right weapon. It's really difficult, as it's not like there's a library I can go to which has books about Wesen and how to kill them. I just need to keep researching and questioning and inching forward."

As Hank listened he suddenly realising he could be of more help already than he first thought.

"You say it would be good to have books about Wesen," he began slowly. "The case I worked on a few months ago that I told you about last night, well it had stacks of references." When Simon's eyes opened wide in amazement and disbelief, Hank forged forward. "I don't remember them in detail anymore as when we'd wrapped up the case we'd thought it was just crazy talk, you know? But now..." He paused to consider the immensity of what information might be locked up at the station, "_now_ I think they might contain exactly what we're after."

Simon's eyes had lit up, fuelled by the unexpected revelation. "Can you access them?"

Hank scrunched his face a little. "Yes," he began, "but I'll have to be careful as it might look odd if I start looking at closed cases. People might ask questions that I don't have answers to. I'll do it, though."

"I appreciate it," Simon said with a grateful smile.

"So," said Hank, buoyed by the motivation of having brought useful information to the meeting, "apart from the research side of things, will you show me how you fight against the Wesen you can identify?"

Simon nodded. "I'll do my best," he said. "I say we go out tonight and I start showing you what I do. We need to make a move now if we're hoping to get the Grimm's attention."

"I agree," said Hank, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through him as the reality of what he was soon to do hit home. He rose from his chair and extended his hand towards his new friend. "See you tonight then, _partner_."

Simon smiled widely and took the offered hand. "Until tonight," he agreed.

...

Even though Hank was eager to start his private mission, he also knew he had to balance it with his police work. The captain had told him to speak to both the dead men's relatives, and so he pushed down his impatience and began the drive to the home of John Connell's widow. He felt a low lying irritation at being distracted from what he really wanted to do which was track down the Grimm and enlist his help to take down the demons that were roaming free in their city. Speaking to the widow of the human victim wouldn't help that. He was sure that the Wesen who killed Connell did it out of pure twisted enjoyment.

It was with a slightly irritated mood that Hank pulled up to the curb outside Connell's home and rang the doorbell. Mary Connell answered the door after Hank had pressed the bell twice, almost thinking she might not have been home after all. He could tell as soon he saw her that she was trying to control her grief and manage a semblance of politeness at his visit.

He felt an instant bloom of guilt as he looked at her. He had been so impatient at the thought of having to chase up inconsequential leads, but now he reminded himself sternly that there was a human side to this case, and regardless of how Connell died, Mary Connell would still feel the loss the same. At least now he knew he could do something concrete to bring justice for the man's death. After chiding himself for his lack of compassion, he brought a sympathetic look to his face and introduced himself.

Mary nodded, looking as though she had expected the visit, and she stood aside to grant him entry to her home. They went into her small living room, each taking a seat.

"Mrs Connell..."

"Call me Mary," she said in a choked voice, trying to hold back tears.

Hank nodded kindly. "Mary," he restarted, "I'm sorry to have to ask you these questions, but can you tell me a little about your husband? What was he like? Did he have any enemies?"

"Gosh, no!" Mary exclaimed, shocked at the thought. "He was a kind man; everyone liked him. He had been scared recently though, but I think it was just the stress from his job getting to him."

"What do you mean?"

Pausing to blow her nose as her emotions ran free again, Mary pulled herself together and tried to explain her words. "He had just received a promotion at work – he was an actuary – and the hours and work load were becoming demanding. It didn't really make sense though..." Her voice trailed away as she became lost in her thoughts.

"What didn't?" Hank quietly prodded, his curiosity piqued.

"Well...it all started after a late night at work when he'd been knocked over on the street by someone," she began. "That seemed to be the final straw as he was never really himself after that. He started saying he saw things..." Mary paused to shake her head as though almost embarrassed to admit her husband's words. "Creatures," she clarified finally.

"Creatures?" Hank's eyebrows rose and he suddenly realised there was more to this case than he had realised.

"Sounds crazy, I know," Mary admitted with a small sigh. "It took a while but he had finally opened up to me that he thought he was seeing creatures walking around in human disguises the night he'd been knocked over. He couldn't let it go. I tried to tell him it was just the stress getting to him, but he was convinced it was real."

Hank found himself leaning forward in his chair. "What did he see _specifically_?"

Mary looked at him curiously, as though the question was an odd one to ask. "Well, I think he said one had a furry face and large beaver-like teeth, and another had scaly skin like a snake with little beady eyes. Sorry, I didn't question him too much, it's not like they were _real_."

Hank didn't reply to that. He suspected if he looked up those descriptions in the books on Wesen creatures at the station that he would find them there. He was already convinced that the Schleierheber must have been the one that knocked down Connell and breathed on him, which meant that it had been pursuing the man for longer than just last night.

"I tried to encourage him to go to the hospital," Mary continued, almost to herself, "but he wouldn't go. He was so paranoid, so obsessed about finding out the truth of what he saw. He wouldn't let it _go..._"

As she began crying again, Hank rose from his chair and put a hand on her shoulder in support for a moment, knowing that was all the information he would get from her that day. He thanked her quietly and let himself out of her home.

...

It was late afternoon by the time Hank returned to the station and he was eager to finally have the opportunity to examine the Wesen books that were in the evidence archives. After updating his files with a report of his meeting with Mary Connell, Hank made his way down to the right floor and quickly found himself at the room that held what he was after. He felt himself tense slightly as he requested the wanted material from the officer on duty, as though at any minute he would be called to justify why he was interested in the closed case. His worry was unfounded though and after his request was logged into the system, he was presented with the few large boxes that contained all the texts found at the old crime scene. As there was no way he could carry it all without bringing attention to himself, he decided to only take one to begin with and then made his way towards the side room where he hoped to examine the material.

Surprisingly, the room was occupied by two other people quietly pouring over old material. While Hank didn't recognise any of them, he decided it was safer instead to return to the elevator and bring the box back up to his floor. There was an underlying paranoia in him now that he had the box in his hands. He wasn't planning on bringing it to his desk though, where questions would almost certainly be asked, so instead after taking the elevator back up, he went into a small back room on his floor that was hardly ever used. It was empty as he had hoped as it was relatively unwelcoming in its sparse design of just a few small tables and uncomfortable looking chairs. At that time, though, Hank was happy for it as there was no one else present and he could have the privacy he wanted.

He opened the box and pulled out the first book. It was a small leather-bound one with well worn pages. It was written in a few different languages but most was in English and mentioned creatures that were not fully human and which exhibited animalistic characteristics. He pulled out another book at random, and then another, and started laying them out on the table, looking for words or drawings that would seem familiar to him.

It didn't take long. Open on the table was a large tome, and on the page was the face of the creature that had tried to hill him the night before. He almost couldn't breathe for a moment while the reality sank in. The writing was not in English much to his disappointment, but the picture was clear. Whoever wrote the books had encountered the same beast, confirming beyond a doubt for Hank that everything he had seen and learned in the past day was real. There was something about seeing it in ink, staring back at him from the page, that make it all that more undeniable.

Hank kept flipping pages, seeing horrible and fascinatingly alien creatures staring back at him. He even saw one called an Eisbeiber that sounded a lot like what Mrs Connell had mentioned her husband had seen on the streets of Portland. There were a few scaly creatures too, any of which could have fitted the general description of the other monster she mentioned.

Suddenly, it was all too much. The reality hit him hard and the immensity of the task he had now volunteered for was overwhelming. There were so many creatures, far more than he had ever expected. It wasn't that he was going to renege because he was not that type of person. It was more that he realised fully now how important it was to track down the Grimm. Hank was far out of his league expecting to take on these creatures without the expertise of a Grimm on his side.

He leaned back in his chair, staring for a few moments longer at the books lying scattered on the table for, before he suddenly jolted forward and began slamming them shut roughly. He needed to get out of the station and start _doing_ something useful. He felt restless and it was becoming claustrophobic in the small, quiet room and so he decided that he would return home first to finish reading. After that he would be as ready as he could be for later than evening when he would set out on his first hunt with Simon.

He stood from his chair and it scraped loudly on the floor as he did so. Collecting up the books Hank quickly returned them all to their box and picked it up before leaving the room. He had to cross the open office floor where his and Nick's desks sat to return to the elevator, and as he did so he saw that his partner was seated there. Nick raised his head and gave a nod of greeting and a curious look as his partner passed. Hank was too preoccupied to do more than give a quick glance over and an unconvincing attempt at a smile before he strode out into the corridor to rush into a fast-closing elevator.

Hank thought he heard Nick call after him as he did so but he pretended not to notice. He had nothing more on his mind that the gripping drive to find the Grimm, and his partner was of no use to him there.

...

Nick stared after Hank as his partner rushed past with an archive box cradled in his arms and a preoccupied expression on his face. He called after him, but Hank either didn't hear or chose not to reply. Feeling a little concerned, Nick rose from his chair and began striding to catch up to him.

"_Nick_ - I need a word with you." Renard's voice boomed after him, stopping him in his tracks.

Nick let out a sigh of frustration. "Captain," he began, looking over his shoulder and motioning with one outstretched arm towards the elevator. "Hank–"

"_Now_, Burkhardt," Renard emphasised, his expression unreadable but the tone of his voice making it clear that this was an order.

Nick cocked his head quizzically, trying to open a silent conversation across the room between them. Renard just held his impassive expression until Nick gave in and nodded his consent, turning his back on the elevator and following Renard into his office.

As soon as they were inside and the door closed behind them, Nick let a little of his frustration show.

"Captain," he began, "I just–"

"Wanted to follow Hank as you were concerned about him," finished Renard with a tense nod that shopped Nick short. "I know, and I want you to follow him, but you need to hear this first."

The strangeness of Renard's words silenced Nick and he began feeling a tension in the pit of his stomach that told of a worrying sense of foreboding. "What is it?" he asked in a more subdued tone.

Renard took a moment to sit against the edge of his desk and look his Grimm partner carefully in his eyes. "Hank just signed out the Wesen evidence from the Schlafweber serial killer case."

There was no need to ask how the captain knew – Nick was well aware that the king kept a tab on everything that crossed over into the Wesen world.

There was a moment while Nick just stared back. "Why?" he said finally, unsure what else to say.

"I don't know," admitted Renard with a small sigh, "but we need to find out. _You_ need to find out," he clarified with a pointed look.

"You want me to spy on my partner?" Nick exclaimed automatically, feeling uncomfortable with the idea.

Renard rose from where he was sitting and strode forward quietly to put his hand on Nick's shoulder. "I'm asking you to help protect him from himself."

They stood looking at each other, the silence spreading into the room while Nick thought through this worrying turn of events. He could see the reasoning behind Renard's request though, as much as he hated to admit it. There was no clear reason as to why Hank would have suddenly developed an interest in Wesen information, but it could lead nowhere good. Nick suddenly flashed back to the night of the crime, when he had stood there over the dead bodies and thought he had sensed a Wesen but couldn't identify why. He had almost forgotten about it but now the memory niggled at his instincts uncomfortably.

"Okay," Nick said finally, breaking the silence and giving a slight nod of his head as though he had found the solution that sat best with him out of the range of uncomfortable options. "I won't _spy_ on him," he began, and when Renard opened his mouth to argue, Nick silenced him with a pacifying wave of his hand, "but I _will_ talk to him."

"And say what?" Renard asked, knowing Nick well enough to trust his judgement.

Nick scrunched his face into an expression of aversion to what he had decided to do. "Lies," he said simply. "I'll GPS his phone and track him down now, and I'll convince him to admit to me what his interest is in the Wesen texts. Whatever he answers, I'll do my best to tell him every word in them is pure fiction and he'd be better off leaving them alone."

Renard could see the pain in Nick's eyes at the thought of having to deceive his partner and friend, but sometimes unpalatable decisions needed making. "It's for the best," the king said, feeling sympathy for Nick's position as his own awakened sense of friendship and trust was teaching him about emotions he had long hidden away. "If he even gets an inkling that there might be something to the idea that the Wesen world is real, then he's putting himself in danger. He'd not only become paranoid but he would also be scared. He'd know that there are things out there that he can't see and so has no chance of defending himself against." He paused almost for a greater effect. "He can't know, Nick," Renard said with emphasis. "It wouldn't be fair on him. You _have_ to stop him."

There was a heaviness to Nick's words when he answered. "I know. Whatever I have to do, I'll do it," he replied solemnly.

The king and the Grimm stood together a moment longer before the sounds of the human world started creeping back into the room through the glass walls, and the moment was over.

...

After tracking Hank's movements, it didn't take Nick long to realise his partner was heading back home. The drive wasn't too long but Nick spent the journey wondering just _how_ he was going to breach the subject of the Wesen texts. He couldn't admit he knew his partner had taken them as that would either make Hank defensive that he had been spied upon by his Captain, or worse still, cause him to be suspicious of _why_ Renard had a watch on the Wesen texts.

There didn't seem to be an easy answer, so when Nick finally pulled up outside Hank's home and found himself standing outside the door, he was still stewing over the unpalatable solution of having to show concern about Hank's earlier behaviour and use it to convince him to open up to reveal the truth. It felt underhanded, but Nick knew his motives were honourable and he hoped that would justify the means. He knocked on Hank's door.

"Nick...?" Hank pulled the door open but stood blocking his partner from entry. "What are you doing here?"

Feeling a little affronted that Hank was slightly unwelcoming, Nick just raised an eyebrow and tried his best to look innocent. "I just wanted to see how you are. I know I've been a little...distant recently, but you did just have to shoot a guy yesterday and you looked stressed at the station just before," he explained with a smile. "Hope you don't mind me coming over..." He angled his way past Hank's body to allow himself access through the door. It was a manoeuvre Monroe had complained about many times when it had been done to him, but Nick had always found it more useful to be a little pushy and risk the consequences than to have a door closed in his face.

Hoping that Hank was following him, Nick made his way over to his friend's couch and sat down, relaxing back into the padding behind him. He felt more apprehensive now he was here as he could tell that Hank had almost considered asking him to leave which revealed far more about the gaping distance in their friendship than even Nick had realised. He felt a deep guilt about that as it was a split of his own making, and now he was here to lie again and potentially make things worse. He forced the smile back on his face and something inside him was shamed by how easily he could make it look convincing.

As Hank made his way over and sat down opposite Nick somewhat reluctantly as though he had been interrupted, Nick leaned forward and began speaking. "Is everything okay?"

Hank paused for a moment before shrugging Nick's concern away. "Yeah, it's fine," he said. "I suppose you're right – I was a little freaked out about having to kill that man, but I don't regret it as there wasn't another choice at the time."

Nick nodded sympathetically, thinking back to his own first kill when the Reapers had come to murder him and his aunt. "It's difficult," he agreed, staring down at his hands momentarily as the memory came back to him. "I remember when I had to shoot someone I..." he let his words draw to a halt for a moment as though embarrassed by the coming admission, "...I became a little obsessed with finding out more about who they were and why they attacked me." It wasn't that subtle, but Nick couldn't think of many avenues to push his friend to open up so he forged ahead. "I mean, if that's why you were looking stressed out at the station, I'd understand..."

Looking over at the sincerity and concern in his partner's eyes, Hank realised he couldn't lie to him anymore. He knew there was only a slim chance that Nick would believe the insane story he was about to tell him, but Hank knew it was better that he told the truth than dig himself into a series of lies that would end up destroying their already fraying friendship. He was never happy with deception especially towards those he considered friends.

Hank took a deep, slow breath and met Nick's eyes. "I need to tell you something," he began, "and it's going to sound crazy but just go with it."

Nick pulled an expression that came out as a confused half-smile as though he wasn't quite sure what was about to happen. And that was the truth.

"That night," Hank said, "when I shot the man... He wasn't human."

Nick's eyebrows shot up in astonishment. "Not human? What do you mean?" he asked, though his mind had already put together the Wesen texts Hank had borrowed with his current admission and had come to an unbelievable conclusion.

"Okay...well, you know the books about these 'Wesen' creatures from that serial killer case of a few months back?" Hank said slowly, keeping a careful track on Nick's reaction. "Well, I think they're _real_."

_Oh crap_, Nick thought, eyes wide.

He couldn't even imagine how Hank could have thought Douglas Klein was Wesen, but that in itself was only half the problem. He now had a partner who was convinced of something that would either put his life in danger or else at best drive him into paranoid insanity. Nick couldn't see any good outcome from Hank's admission and he wished for a moment that he could freeze time and call Monroe to ask for his advice as he wasn't sure he knew how to handle this on his own.

"Real?" he croaked out finally.

The tension in Hank suddenly snapped and he rose from his seat and began pacing the room before calming himself enough to return and sit on the edge of his chair. He started staring at Nick again as though willing him to believe.

"When the man pushed me to the ground he breathed on me and suddenly I could see him for what he was – and he _wasn't_ human." Hank grimaced at the memory, lost in his own thoughts. "He was this hairy _creature_ with beady black eyes and oversized front teeth! I almost thought it was just the bump to my head that made me imagine things, but later on when I was interviewing Simon – I mean, Mr Richter – he told me he knew exactly what I saw, as he'd seen creatures like that before, too."

A corner of Nick's brain registered Hank's familiar use of the witness's first name and it put up a warning light, but he didn't say anything.

"Richter told me all about Wesen and how the one that breathed on me gave me the temporary ability to see them. _Nick_..." Hank sighed, looking stressed. "They're bad. They're _demons_ and they're out there preying on humans, trying to kill us, and we're defenceless to fight back as we're running blind. But..." he added and his voice became excited as he leaned forward eager to impart his knowledge, "there are Grimms – do you remember from our case? – Grimms are humans that can see Wesen for what they are and they're born to defend us. There's even one in Portland! I've checked out the Wesen books from evidence to learn as much as I can as Simon and I want to join forces with the Grimm in the fight against these _things_."

Hank's impassioned confession came to a halt suddenly and the room was left in deadly silence. Nick didn't say a word. He wasn't even sure _what _to say. This was bad; far worse than he had even dared believe. His partner knew about Wesen – actually _saw_ one – and had now been convinced that they were demons that must be hunted and killed.

A hundred thoughts rushed through Nick's mind as he tried to strategize a solution to this disaster. He knew Hank well and he could tell by the look in his eyes that he was firmly committed to his belief in the evil of Wesen. He silently cursed Simon Richter. The only way Nick could even begin to talk his partner out of his extreme stance was to admit that he knew about Wesen himself, and that he _was_ the Grimm Hank was searching for.

He couldn't though. He didn't even want to think too closely about why he didn't just open his mouth and admit what he was, in the hope that his admission would hold more weight than that of Richter and he could begin to repair the damage the other man had caused. But he couldn't. Somewhere inside him just wanted to protect Hank from that world entirely; wanted them to be as they were before everything had changed in Nick's life. Hank couldn't see Wesen anymore and Nick couldn't handle the thought of him hunting around town trying to fight blind.

It was naive in a way, Nick knew, but sometimes when the Wesen world became too crazy, he liked to just pretend with Hank that life was simple again. It seemed a silly thought at the same time, as Nick would never wish to return fully to his old life as he was happy working beside Monroe and Renard, watching over the Portland Wesen.

There wasn't really much logic there, but it was how he felt.

Nick had turned inwardly as he rushed through his thoughts but he returned his attention to the room again now, focusing on Hank who was still staring at him with a nervous pressure.

"Hank..." Nick began, stumbling for the best way to respond. "I believe _you_ believe this..."

Hank's expression tightened slightly and he began closing down. Nick forged forward painfully, hating every word he was trying to use to plant a seed of doubt in his friend's mind. "Richter is involved in our case. He might have another reason for wanting you to believe in 'Wesen'."

"_No_. Nick –"

"And the Wesen books from our other case..." Nick kept talking, not letting Hank interrupt to defend his stance. "We'd found those to be the crazy delusions of a serial killer. It was just all part of a sub-culture role-play thing, remember?"

"Nick, _please –"_

"You hit your head when you fell that night. It could have made you see things that weren't there. It can be traumatic having to shoot someone –"

"NO!" Hank yelled, cutting Nick off and rising from his chair in a fit of frustration, betrayal and hurt. "No, Nick, that's not it at _all_."

He shook his head and began pacing again, feeling anger for having taken a risk and having it rejected so completely. Nick was his _partner_ and he didn't make the effort to believe him. It broke something in Hank. Their friendship has been damaged already but in that moment, Hank knew he couldn't rely on Nick anymore. Hank had opened himself to him and Nick had let him down. Somewhere inside he knew he was overreacting – it was unfair to ask his friend to believe such an outlandish story – but it didn't matter as all the fractured emotions that had been building the last day overrode all else, and suddenly Hank was _pissed._

He stormed over to crouch in front of Nick and stared coldly in the eyes. "We are _partners_," he snapped. "That _means_ something. It means we trust each other and _believe_ each other when no one else will. And now, _Burkhardt_ –" Nick flinched at the change to his surname, "–now I see things aren't the same anymore, are they."

It wasn't a question, and it was all Nick could do to keep holding his partner's stare and not look down in shame. There was a moment before Hank spoke again and the tension was almost painful.

"You're a good cop so I won't ask to be reassigned from you, but we work together from now on and that's all. Our friendship's over. I hope you've got my back at work, even if you clearly don't in any other way."

Hank finished speaking and he stood up, staring down at Nick in pained, uncontrolled anger. Nick didn't speak. He just nodded silently in shock, not trusting himself to talk for fear of making it even worse than it was, if that was possible. He stood slowly, stumbling slightly over the side of the couch as he tried to pass by Hank without aggravating him any further.

Nick let himself out of the house, and Hank didn't make a move to stop him.

...

As Hank stood in his empty living room facing away from the sound of the front door quietly closing, there was an odd emotion creeping through his brain. It was puzzlement, suspicion and disbelief all rolled into one.

When Nick had stood to leave, tripping slightly as he did so, the bottom of his shirt had ridden up a little as he had leaned forward to catch his balance. That revealed what Hank was sure must have been in his imagination, because if it wasn't then Nick Burkhardt, his human partner of many years, had what Hank could identify from his research as a Wesen blade hidden behind his gun holster.

And there was no _way_ that could be true.

...

Nick sat in his car outside Hank's home for a few minutes, watching the setting sun and trying to regain some peace after the shock destruction of their friendship. That had gone very badly, and even though he knew he had to try and lure his partner away from the Wesen world, he was now worried that he had only caused him to become more stubbornly attached than before.

The fact that Hank had actually _seen_ a Wesen was astounding. He was coping surprisingly well considering the life-changing effect such an encounter would have had on the average human. Nick was worried though about Richter who obviously had been stumbling through the Wesen world on half-facts, driven by fear turned to hatred.

Nick knew he needed to separate Hank from Richter's influence and then perhaps his friend would see reason and allow himself to be convinced that the Wesen world was nothing more than fiction. Nick sighed morosely. He wondered again why he was bothering still to hide the truth from Hank as he was clearly already involved. He still felt though that he should keep trying to repair the damage and return Hank to the human world before he hurt himself, or worse.

Nick took out his phone and texted both Monroe and Renard, confirming a meeting at Monroe's house as they had planned the night before, though instead of the social occasion he had hoped for it now needed to be crisis talks and Nick already had a plan formulating in his mind.

...

It was an hour before Renard found the opportunity to leave work, and he, Nick and Monroe were now all seated in the living room of the Blutbad's home. There was an unusual tension in the air as Nick had just updating them on what had happened with Hank.

"Not good, Nick," groaned Monroe, shaking his head as he stated the obvious.

Nick gave him a look that indicated he was well aware of that. "I don't know if I should have just _told_ him the truth..." he began.

Renard shook his head. "I think you did the right thing," he said. "It's far better to have tried to dissuade him that the Wesen world even exists, rather than involve him further in it."

"Don't worry, we'll fix this," agreed Monroe supportively as he reached over to give Nick a quick pat on the shoulder.

"Thanks." Nick gave a weak smile, glad for the company and the fact he still had two friends left even if he had just lost one. He knew that letting himself slide into dark thoughts wouldn't help him now so he forced himself to concentrate on the business at hand. Looking up at his companions he asked the question of them that he had been wondering since Hank had first raised the matter. "Have you ever heard of a Wesen that can temporarily allow humans to see them for what they are?"

Renard shook his head slowly as his forehead crinkled in thought. "No... I don't think I have but that doesn't mean one doesn't exist."

"I might have had," admitted Monroe, though he sounded unsure. Both Nick and Renard looked at him with interest. "It's only a rumour but a little over a century ago back in Germany in the village my ancestors lived in, there was a spate of humans freaking out after seeing 'creatures' around the countryside. My great grandfather heard it was something called a 'Schleierheber' causing the havoc but he never managed to find it as the sightings of Wesen were becoming too much of a problem that it had become dangerous for my family to live there anymore and they had to move on."

"And now there's one in Portland," said Nick, his voice low as the Grimm inside him stirred at the scent of its territory invaded.

Renard was feeling the same reaction though it was the king in him that took dark affront. "If it's here it didn't make itself known to me when it arrived, and neither is it taking heed of the canton laws," he said with a nasty edge to his voice that spoke of punishments brewing.

"Then let's hunt it down." Nick's voice was low and dangerously quiet, his unfocused eyes far darker than was at all natural.

A chill crept through the room, and Monroe shivered before leaning over to casually place a hand on his friend's knee to bring his attention away from the Grimm whispering in his ear. "Err...dude..." he began, "I think you're going a little 'Aunt Marie' on us there..."

Nick raised his head and Monroe saw in a heart-stopping moment the original Grimm of Wesen nightmares staring back at him. A fraction later though and it was gone. Nick blinked, and then it was only Monroe's friend looking back at him again, lifting the side of his mouth in a quirked grin.

"Going 'Aunt Marie'?" Nick teased. "Is that a thing now?"

"Totally a thing," Monroe bantered back. "She's was freakin' scary, and she was practically _comatose_ when I met her."

The tension had broken and Monroe was glad for it as his heart had only now just returned to beating normally after its primal instincts had been jolted.

Nick almost laughed though he suspected it would sound more crazed than anything as there was still far too much loose emotion in him to settle fully. "Sorry," he said as he caught Monroe's eyes and looked at him sincerely. "I think I'm just..._angry_ that Hank's been dragged into this and I just want to take out the thing that caused it to happen."

"Forgiven," said Monroe with a wide smile, and lay back against his chair again with a somewhat overly dramatic exhale of relief.

Renard, who had been watching the entire exchange between the two men carefully, felt pleased at their behaviour. He knew it didn't seem to be the right emotion to feel as he hadn't orchestrated them to act as they had, but instead it was more that he was pleased to witness how well they worked together. Here was a Blutbad who could talk a _Grimm_ into backing down. Nick trusted his friend so completely there was no doubt in his response at all. It amazed Renard, moments like these. It showed him that for all his years of gathering information and studying the intricacies and politics of the Wesen world, it could all be rendered erroneous in just the blink of an eye.

Renard brought his thoughts back to the moment as he saw Nick move to speak.

"I have an idea," Nick started, looking back and forth between his companions, his expression serious. "It's not something I'm proud of but I can't think of a better option. I think we need something fast and that will create a big impact to fix this."

"What are you thinking?" said Renard curiously.

Nick looked to Monroe as he spoke as though he knew the Blutbad wouldn't be entirely pleased with the plan. "I say Monroe goes after Hank tonight and reveals himself to him – _fully_ reveals in the way all humans can see – and scares him so badly that he'll _hopefully_ realise he's in over his head and back down."

"_Woah_, Nick," started Monroe with a shake of his head while waving the idea away with his hands. "There's too many risks!"

"Hank already knows what Monroe looks like as a human," Renard added, though he trusted Nick enough not to dismiss the idea outright. "Also, knowing Hank as we do, he's not the type to back down easily. He's more likely to push twice as hard if threatened."

"I know," said Nick heavily, feeling the bitter taste of the words he was about to speak. "Monroe would have to be in Blutbad form the entire time Hank sees him," he paused, hating what he was about to suggest,"and he would have to let him know that he'll go after his friends if he doesn't back down."

The silence that followed make Nick feel uncomfortable, like he had revealed a side to his personality that he wished his friends would never have to see. It was a cruel plan, but he was desperate and there was nothing Nick wouldn't do to protect Hank from a world he couldn't hope to survive in.

"Let's do it," said Renard finally, breaking the silence. He didn't appear at all shocked though Nick hadn't expected him to. The king was used to making tough decisions.

Monroe on the other hand had still not spoken and Nick almost couldn't look over at his friend for fear of what his reaction would be. Monroe had been his conscience and his guide in the Wesen world ever since they had first met. He helped him know the good from the bad and more recently, since Nick's Grimm within had started becoming more powerful, Monroe had helped him keep the balance with his humanity.

As much as Monroe and Renard were now bonded in partnership, the Blutbad was well aware that the king's moral line was far further away than Nick's should ever be. All three in their team were different in what they could accept, and they respected that in each other, but now Monroe felt he should speak a word of caution.

"You think you can do that to your friend?" he asked gently, trying to be careful how he approached the subject.

Nick met his eyes. "I know what you're thinking," he replied quietly, and Monroe could see the truth in his words. "I'm not suggesting this lightly, and I hope to never have to do something like this again. I'm not proud of it. It's just that I don't think there's another option and while I hate manipulating him, my conscience will rest easy if I know I've protected him from the threats in our world."

Nick's words did appease Monroe a little though he stayed slightly on edge.

"Okay." Monroe nodded, a careful look in his eyes. "I'll do this for you, but don't ever make me regret it."

While he didn't mean his words harshly, Nick knew there was a deep seriousness to them that he shouldn't take lightly. "I won't," he replied, sincerely, "_Thank you_."

Monroe just nodded and gave a tight smile, letting his own nervousness show through a little. It was easy enough to have a plan to scare a trained cop, but Blutbaden or not, Monroe was not bulletproof and he didn't want to end up Hank's second victim in two days.

...

After Nick had traced Hank's location via his cell phone, Monroe set out, leaving his companions waiting back at his home for news of the outcome. It wasn't too long a drive before Monroe found himself around the corner from where Nick had let him know Hank's cell has stopped moving only half a minute before.

Monroe was glad for the dark as he parked his car and walked quietly to the end of the street. He turned the corner and saw Nick's partner standing a distance down the sidewalk, looking up at an old white-stone mansion. Monroe steeled himself as he stalked nearer to Hank. The man still hadn't noticed him, but Monroe hadn't expected him to. Blutbaden were known for being skilled hunters.

He was now only two car lengths away and closing fast. Rippling an odd contracture through his body, Monroe then fully revealed the beast within.

And then he leaped.

Covering far more ground that a human possibly could, Monroe bound forward and let Hank see his face – _truly_ see him – before slamming the man down onto the ground and holding him fast. As Hank panicked and tried to ineffectually thrash around to free himself, Monroe crouched over him, his morphed face only inches away from Hank's own. He let loose a growl, deep and terrifying, that brewed in the pit of his stomach and built in volume as the sound wound its way up to his mouth and roared out between his razer-sharp teeth.

Hank cried out in horror, unable to stop staring at the beast over him. Panic heightening in him as he realised that he was far outmatched in strength, and even his most desperate attempts to free himself were met with easy resistance.

"Forget about us," Monroe growled, letting the threat sound clearly in his voice. "You will live longer."

Hank was frozen in shock, but as Monroe opened his mouth to continue his warning the beast within him smelled something new in the air. Something Wesen.

It was too close; Monroe had let himself become distracted with his task and the intruder was only a few paces away and charging towards him with a small container in his hand.

"_Simon_...!" Hank yelled, his head twisted to the side as he stared at his new friend running towards them.

Monroe had a split second to register his surprise at the Wesen's name before he was hit with a face full of pepper spray. He howled in pain and shot backwards. Tears streaming down his face, he loped away from the two men, stumbling slightly as he ran back down the street and around the corner to throw himself into his car. A stream of German curses flowed from his mouth as he wiped at his eyes and a fit of sneezes overcame him. Once he managed to calm down enough to see clearly, Monroe turned his engine on and sped down the quiet street, aimed resolutely in the direction of his home.

At the speed he was travelling it didn't take him long to arrive at his doorstep, and, still cursing and sneezing, he stumbled up his steps and through the doorway.

Nick jumped from the chair he had been waiting in, as soon as he saw the condition of his friend. "What happened?"

Renard also had risen and was staring at Monroe with unease.

"A freakin' _Wesen_ is what happened!" Monroe exclaimed, still highly agitated by the surprise turn of events. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself a little. "Hank's new buddy, Simon Richter – " Monroe paused for effect "– he's _Wesen_."

Nick paled and Renard's expression became tight as they both instantly realised what that meant. If Richter was Wesen then everything he had told Hank was a lie. And if a Wesen was out to trick a human into killing other Wesen and tracking down a Grimm, then that was _very_ bad news.

"Do you know what type of Wesen he is?" Renard asked, his mind quickly turning to how to shut down the danger.

"I couldn't tell by his scent," began Monroe darkly, "but what you said Hank described as having breathed on him last night, well that sounded more to me like a Hamsterfreund, which didn't make sense when we thought we were looking for a rogue Schleierheber. But now we know Richter has lied about what he is, I'm thinking there's every chance the guy Hank shot _was_ a Hamsterfreund and _Richter_ is the Schleierheber."

Nick nodded, not wanting to interrupt and ask what a Hamsterfreund was as he had already caught on to Monroe's train of thought about their more immediate concern. "There were only two Wesen there the night Hank was attacked," he said, "and one of them _had_ to have breathed on him."

"And Richter's sounding like the one who must have done it," said Renard, concluding Nick's thought. "Clever."

There was a nasty look in his eye that spoke of retaliation, and neither Nick nor Monroe could deny they felt any different. The Schleierheber had played Hank and drawn him into a dangerous game. It would _pay._

The darkness of the atmosphere was broken only by another expressive sneeze from Monroe who was still struggling to control his sinuses.

"Seriously, Monroe," said Nick with concern. "What _happened_ to you?"

Monroe wiped the tears from his eyes again and fumbled around in his pockets for a handkerchief to blow his nose. "Pepper spray."

Nick gave a sympathetic wince. "Does that affect Blutbaden?" His curiosity earned him an exasperated look from his friend.

"Well my senses are stronger than humans so I _really_ got it up my sinuses, thanks for caring," Monroe retorted sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "I'm going to be sneezing it out for a week, you know..."

"Sorry," Nick said with a hidden smile as he finally realised he had been a little tactless.

"So...Hank pepper sprayed you?" Renard said to draw his companions back to business, surprised that his detective could move fast enough to get the better of Monroe.

Monroe shook his head. "No, it was Richter. I was distracted with threatening Hank – which I didn't get around to doing much of, by the way – when he was pretty much upon me."

Nick looked surprised but before he could speak, Monroe continued. "I know what you're going to say and yeah, I was a little off my game." He gave a slight cringe at the memory. "It's just threatening Hank was, you _know_..."

Nick nodded. "I know. I'm sorry I asked you to do it," he reiterated sincerely.

Monroe stopped sniffling a moment to give a nod. "It's okay. It had to be tried. I don't know if it worked though as I got interrupted."

"Nick and I can keep an eye on Hank at work tomorrow," said Renard thoughtfully. "We should be able to tell whether he's backed down or not, now we know what he's up to."

He turned his head to look Nick in the eye, almost apologetically. "I want you to start partnering with Hank properly again," he said. "I know it'll be difficult after what happened tonight between you and him, but you can't watch him easily if you're not together."

Nick nodded his agreement. "I know," he said simply as though resigned to the inevitable. "It's not going to be easy but I'll make it work. Protecting him is our responsibility now we know a rogue Wesen's involved."

Any ideas of how we're going to deal with this Richter guy?" asked Monroe as he grabbed a box of tissues and made his way over to a seat.

"Well," Nick began with a quick glance to Renard, "how we deal with him has implications to our police case, so we need to be careful. We've been treating him as a witness but I think considering what we now know about him, he should be a suspect in Connell's death. We don't have any evidence yet but we also can't just let the usual system handle him if we did."

"He's right," said Renard, joining in. "Arresting a Schleierheber who's already shown he's willing to breathe on humans is a bad idea. We can't take him out permanently either," he continued, and it was clear to Nick and Monroe that Renard was referring to a more fatal solution. "He's too much in the spotlight on this case for that not to cause problems. We need a solution that will resolve this in both worlds."

Nick sighed as he considered the problem. "We need more information," he said finally. "We can't really take him out until we know what we're dealing with. Monroe – can you keep an eye on Richter from a distance to see where he goes, who he talks to?"

Monroe nodded. "Can do," he said, "though I'll be more careful of him next time." He wiped a fresh path of tears away that were still falling from his red, irritated eyes.

"Thanks," said Nick, and looked to Renard. "Can you check your contacts and see what they've heard?"

"I will," Renard nodded. "I'll put the message out and I'll let you both know what I find."

The decision having been made, Nick and Renard gave their farewells to Monroe, leaving the Blutbad to the peace of his home and his grandmother's traditional remedies to find a cure for his aching head.

...

The next day after reporting a lack of leads to his captain, Hank spent a long morning sitting at his desk trying to concentrate on his work. He was struggling though as his mind kept luring him back to thoughts of the night before. It wasn't just the nightmarish image of the monster staring down at him when he had been attacked. That was causing enough dull panic in him that he was eternally grateful for Simon's quick thinking which had saved his life. It was also that his mind kept going back to the disturbing moment when he thought he had seen a Wesen blade on his partner.

There was no way he could turn the concept in his mind that made any sense, or at least that gave any answer that didn't disturb him to the core. The problem was it was such a fleeting glance he had taken before Nick's shirt had falling back into place again, that Hank found it very easy – too easy – to dismiss the entire vision as just a figment of his stressed imagination.

Nick had arrived at the station an hour before as he had been chasing up leads on his own in the morning. There was a palpable awkwardness and tension between them both and they only gave a brief almost formal greeting before turning to their separate work. Hank now stared over at his partner's lowered head as he watched him type his progress report. He thought he might be going mad to think Nick was anything other than a normal cop. And a human.

Hank pushed away the niggling suspicion in his mind for the hundredth time, and tried to focus again on his own work. He didn't even notice at first when his captain came up to their desk.

"How's your progress coming along with the Connell case?" Renard asked, looking more towards Nick as he propped himself on the side of a nearby desk.

Nick leaned back in his chair and gave a tilt of his head as he mentally reviewed his actions to date. Sometimes it was difficult keeping separate the investigations that crossed over both his worlds, and he often needed to pretend for the sake of others that Renard knew far less than he did about Nick's movements.

"I've spoken to the colleagues of Connell," Nick said to begin his report. "They said he had been acting paranoid and his work was slipping. They didn't really know why though so we don't have a lot of leads from that. I also spoke to the neighbours of Klein who said he didn't really have any friends but seemed like a nice enough man. Just as with Connell, they said that Klein had been acting a little strange and paranoid towards the end. They didn't see much of him though nor did they know him that well so they hadn't thought to question him to find out what was wrong."

"Okay," Renard nodded thoughtfully. "Not a lot of leads to go on, but it does put an interesting tie between the two men if both were acting strangely before their deaths."

"I thought so too," agreed Nick. "I'm going to visit Klein's workplace today to see if they know anything useful. I'll let you know how it goes." There was a look in his eye as though he was waiting for some kind of particular response.

Renard had been working closely with Nick long enough to know what he was angling for, and so he gave him the reply he needed. "Good," he said, "but Hank, I want you to go too."

Hank gave a small jolt of surprise. "But sir..." he began, "I could –"

"You could go with your _partner_," interjected Renard, leaving no room for argument.

Hank didn't say anything for a moment, knowing he had no legitimate excuse for not wanting to investigate alongside Nick. It was ironic, he thought, that after months of mourning the distance between him and Nick, now that Renard was finally encouraging them to work closely again Hank would give anything _not_ to. He sighed inwardly. He might have had a falling out with his friend, but he hadn't doubted Nick's cop skills, so he had better make the best of a bad situation. Anyway, while he was sure that his imagination has got the best of him the night before, it wouldn't hurt to keep a closer eye on his partner, just to be sure nothing was amiss.

"Yes, sir," Hank said finally, and little did he know that both Renard and Nick felt a little of the tension inside them release as their plan started on track.

...

Douglas Klein had worked at a small neighbourhood grocery store. Hank was driving, and Nick stared out the window to avoid the uncomfortable silence between them. They were only a few blocks from their destination when Nick's cell phone rang and it was with relief that he moved to answer it. Unfortunately though, Hank had glanced away from the road at the sound and now saw the name on the display.

"Monroe?" he said, curiously. "Isn't that the clock guy?"

"Different Monroe," replied Nick casually, hoping the bluff would work as he knew well that maintaining the pretence that Monroe was just an infrequent work contact and not a close friend was integral to keeping his two lives separate. "Tom Monroe – just a friend," he lied to clarify, not meeting Hank's eye for too long.

He answered the call quickly to distract from the slightly disbelieving look his partner was giving him. There was a new calculating thoughtfulness to Hank that worried Nick. He had been above suspicion before, but it seemed things had changed.

"Hey," Nick said into the phone, feeling self-conscious but Hank had returned to focusing on the road.

"Hey yourself," returned Monroe. "I was just wondering if you had any updates on this whole Schleierheber situation. Renard just called me to say he's found a possible Wesen lead – some contact of his heard something about a Schleierheber being in town, so we're hoping he might know something useful. He'll look into it and let us know."

"Thanks, sounds good," said Nick, being careful to keep his side of the conversation neutral. "Let's meet up later and we'll talk about it."

After a small pause Monroe took the hint. "Hank with you?"

"Yeah," Nick said, glad his Wesen partner had caught on. "Later?"

"Yeah, later," Monroe agreed, and let Nick end the call.

There was an uncomfortable tension in the car and Nick couldn't fault it. Hank was many things but stupid was not one of them.

...

A few moments later, Hank pulled his car into a parking spot close to the grocery store and they make their way inside.

It was a small store but neatly stocked with food and other assorted goods over its few shelves. The shop assistant – a friendly young woman – smiled at them when they entered and she finished processing the purchases of the only customer currently in the store. Hank and Nick waited patiently until she was done and the customer left, and then they approached her.

"Detectives Griffin and Burkhardt," announced Hank with a polite smile. "We're here about Douglas Klein. Are you the manager?"

The woman sobered a little, and shook her head. "No, I just help out. I'm Jodie. Hang on…" She turned her head towards a back storeroom door. "Mike?" she called out, and after a few seconds a large, rotund man in his forties came out to greet them.

"Can I help you?" he said, noticing Hank's badge hanging around his neck.

"I hope so, sir," Hank replied. "We were hoping to find out more about Douglas Klein."

The man saddened and sighed. "I don't understand it at all," he admitted, glancing to Jodie who shrugged in agreement. "I can't imagine why he'd attack anyone." He paused a moment looking slightly shocked. "Was it you he tried to…?" He couldn't quite bring himself to say 'kill'.

Hank nodded, realising the situation might be a little uncomfortable for the man, but Mike just sighed again philosophically as though he couldn't blame Hank if Klein had been acting so out of character.

"He was a nice guy," Mike tried to explain. "Friendly enough but a bit of a loner. Always came to work on time, always good with the customers." He looked as though he wanted to prove Klein had been an upstanding member of society. "He took holidays around the country once a year and always brought us little souvenirs back –"

"Thanks," interrupted Hank, quickly realising the man was going to become long-winded in trying to convince them of Klein's good standing. He already knew Klein wasn't human so it hardly mattered to him what lies he had laid in place to trick innocent people into believing he was harmless.

Nick, meanwhile, had withdrawn into his senses and was looking at the shopkeeper with a curiously intense look that was starting to make the man nervous. He realised quickly that he had better school his expression and speak, and so he pulled out a small photo of John Connell and showed it to both Mike and his assistant. "Do either of you recognise this man?"

They looked closely for a moment in silence, but both finished by shaking their heads.

"Sorry," said Mike, answering for both of them after a quick glance to Jodie. "I mean, we get customers through here every day so maybe he's been here, but I don't recognise him as a regular."

"Are you the only two people who work here?" asked Nick with a questioning tilt of his head. "Any one else we can ask…?"

Mike bobbed his head, hoping to be as helpful as he could. "My son does some shifts here. He's away on deliveries at the moment but I can let him know you want to speak to him."

"That would be good," said Nick, smiling as he tried to make up for his earlier odd behaviour. He handed over his card to the man. "Get him to call or come down to the station."

Mike nodded, but as Hank and Nick turned to leave they both noticed Jodie looked as though she wanted to speak up but perhaps didn't want to do so in front of her boss. Mike had noticed too and he looked anxious for a moment. As he let his emotions betray him, Nick's earlier suspicions were finally confirmed. The man morphed into his Wesen form.

He didn't look threatening, was Nick's first thought. If anything he looked almost hamster-like with his face and head covered in brown and white fur, a fast twitching nose and startled small eyes.

"Actually, how about I speak to Mike here on his own, and Hank can have a talk with Jodie?" said Nick with a rush, realising he wasn't being at all subtle, but his worry about the manager panicking at seeing a Grimm standing in front of him was a far more immediate concern. He pulled the man over to the side, and tried to ignore the incredulous stare that Hank gave him at what he knew was a horribly done manoeuvre.

At least his partner didn't comment and instead just shook his head as though sometimes he couldn't understand Nick's behaviour at all. Hank did take Jodie aside though to the far corner of the store to begin trying to find out what she wanted to say.

"Don't freak out!" hissed Nick quietly to Mike as he finished half-leading, half-pushing the man towards the side wall. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Mike was breathing fast and staring terrified, which was a look Nick was fast becoming used to. "You're a _Grimm_...!" was all he could say, in dazed horror.

"Yeah," agreed Nick, starting to become a little impatient as he didn't have long to speak to the man alone, and if Mike continued acting strangely Hank would start becoming even more suspicious than he already was. "I'm a Grimm. And I just want to solve my case and that's _all_."

Mike stared at him a moment longer before managing to calm himself enough to morph back into human form. "Okay...Okay..." he said, not fully believing it but prepared to do anything to please the Grimm in front of him. "We're peaceful people, don't want to cause any harm," he added, hoping to ward off any thoughts Nick might have of coming after his race.

"I'm sure you are," said Nick, not doubting it for a second as the man quite clearly would run and hide at the first sign of danger. "Is she...?" he asked, motioning with a tilt of his head over to Josie across the store.

"No," Mike replied. "She's human. She doesn't know anything about us. I don't know what she'd want to talk about privately..." he added with a worried look.

"What about Klein?" Nick said as a sudden thought. He brought back to mind the Wesen name that Monroe had used the night before to describe what he suspected the dead man to be. If Klein was one then perhaps the man he worked with was of the same species. "Was he Hamsterfreunde too?"

Mike gulped and nodded, realising that he was hardly placing Klein in danger by admitting his true identity to the Grimm. "Yeah..."

"Is there anything else going on you want to tell me?" He spoke in as calming a voice as he could manage, making it clear that it was the Wesen world he was asking about.

"Well…" began Mike, still not quite believing who he was speaking to. "Towards the end," he said, meaning Klein's last days, "he was scared as though someone was following him and so he spoke…openly…with me. I don't think Jodie heard but she might have had…"

Nick nodded, understanding immediately the colossal problem it would be if Jodie had overheard talk about the Wesen world, and now she was possibly relaying it to Hank. Nick was already deeply worried by how much Hank had been brainwashed into believing all Wesen were demon-like creatures, and having even more mention of that world brought to him during a murder investigation would just further fuel his bias."Do you know who he thought was following him?"

"No, I don't think he knew, I'm sorry," said Mike, almost forgetting his panic as he thought back to his dead colleague.

Nick nodded, disappointed but it was more of a lead than he before. Even though he had no proof he could almost believe that it was Simon Richter who was following Klein, though as yet he couldn't imagine his motive.

Meanwhile, over the far side of the little store, Hank was finishing his private talk with Jodie and what she had to say brought to light for him the horrible truth of how far Wesen creatures had infiltrated the human world.

"You say Klein was taking to Mike about something called a Hamsterfreund?" asked Hank again just to confirm it in his mind.

"Yeah, I think that's the word," she said in a low voice. "I don't know what it means, but Mike seemed to. They didn't realise I was still in the store as I'd only come back to pick up the mail I was going to post after closing, and they were in the back room..."

"What were they saying specifically?" Hank pushed, leaning forward in his eagerness for more information.

Jodie just scrunched up her face apologetically. "I didn't hear much. Doug said, 'Hamsterfreunde like us don't want to be involved in that', and Mike agreed. They were looking really stressed, you know?"

Hank nodded, realising with growing frustration that Jodie was not going to be able to tell him as much as he wanted to learn. He glanced over at his partner and watched the strange behaviour Nick was bringing out in the man he was speaking to. It wasn't the first time Hank had noticed people acting oddly in Nick's presence.

The first time he had particularly noticed it was during their serial killer case of a few months previous when they had visited a bar called Hafen. His same instincts had been aroused from the reaction Nick drew from the patrons there. It was the first time Hank had started developing a niggling suspicion in the back of his mind that there was something going on with Nick that he was hiding. As though his mind wanted to taunt him further, it now brought his memory back to the possibly imagined glimpse of a Wesen weapon Hank thought he had seen upon his partner the night before.

They were loose threads, all just suspicions and unanswered questions, but Hank had a nasty feeling that he might not want to know how they might all eventually join together. As he thanked the young woman and motioned to Nick that he was done, he hoped to hell that his partner wasn't involved in anything to do with the Wesen world. As much as the idea sounded crazy, all his instincts told him was that Nick was definitely not all that he seemed.

…

As they left the store together, Nick could sense the tension heightening between them again.

"Do you mind finding your own way back to the station? I've got some errands to run," said Hank, not rudely but Nick could tell that he clearly didn't want them to spend too much time together as the hurt and distrust he felt had been further ignited in the store.

Nick sighed and nodded his head. "Sure, catch you later then."

As he watched Hank get in his car and drive off, Nick decided it was probably for the best. While he was meant to be keeping an eye on his partner, he could also do with clearing his head and that would give him space to work out how to start repairing this mess between them. At times like these, when his mind was conflicted, his thoughts went to Monroe whose counsel he could use. He decided he might as well take in some fresh air and walk the moderate distance to the Blutbad's house rather than call a cab. He had after all told his friend on the phone before that they should catch up, so now was as good a time as any.

…

Hank had only driven a block away from Nick before his suspicions overcame him and he pulled over to the curb. He didn't want to think too deeply about his issues with Nick, but the cop in him was prodding incessantly at the back of his brain, and it with an almost involuntary motion that he found himself turning his car around and driving back the way he had come.

He saw Nick on the street where he had left him and began tailing him slowly, watching where his partner was walking and it was most certainly not the direction of the station. It took just under half an hour but when Nick reached his destination, Hank pulled over out of sight and a tension crept through his mind. He recognised the house his partner now stood outside, and it was only a moment later that his thoughts were confirmed when the clock repairer, Monroe, answered the door and greeted Nick with the ease of close friendship. It was, Hank thought, the same Monroe that must have rung Nick earlier and whom Nick had always claimed he barely knew.

Hank stayed seated in his car, dark thoughts taunting his mind as he stared at the doorway that had now closed behind his lying partner.

...

Nick slumped back against the couch at Monroe's place, closing his eyes for a moment to shut out the world for a few peaceful seconds.

"That bad?" said Monroe's voice close by.

Nick nodded and leaned forward to cup his face in his hands. He took a few deep breaths and then lifted his head. Opened his eyes, he gave his friend a forlorn expression. "It's like watching a crash in slow motion and not being able to stop it."

"We're talking about Hank?"

Nick nodded again and let out a frustrated groan. "All the lying and secrets... He knows something's up. I think the only thing stopping him from confronting me is that he just hasn't worked out what the right question is to ask."

Monroe understood. He had certainly done his fair share of keeping part of his life secret from his human friends and it could be a heavy burden to bear.

"Anyway..." sighed Nick after a moment of silence. "I wouldn't mind some good news for a change." He gave a small self-deprecating smile. "Tell me about Renard's lead."

"Well..." Monroe relaxed back in his own chair. "He said he'll let us know as soon as he's tracked the source down and 'extracted information from him'. Is it just me or do you get shivers when he says things like that?"

Nick almost laughed at his friend's wide-eyed look. "Yeah. Best not to think too deeply about some of the things he says."

Monroe gave a short chuckle. "I hear you."

They both knew that while the king had changed much since their partnership formed, he had started far more in the darkness than even Monroe had in his worst years. Renard had a new line now though and he made sure not to cross it, not only because he was learning the benefits of a new more conscience-driven way to live, but also because of his acceptance for what Nick could stomach as his partner in their other world.

"So..." said Monroe, bringing the conversation back on track. "I've spent the morning doing my part of the deal, though keeping _far_ out of sight of the Schleierheber so he doesn't pepper spray me again."

Nick's eyes sharpened and he was curious to hear what his friend found. "Find anything we can use?"

Monroe just shrugged. "Not really but it wasn't a wasted trip. He did the rounds at some regular Wesen haunts like Hafen and some others around town, and when I asked the locals what he spoke to them about they all said the same thing: He was asking about the Grimm." Before Nick could open his mouth to ask the obvious question, Monroe answered it. "Don't worry, no one said a word. They're either too scared of 'the Grimm of their nightmares' coming after them, or they've heard you're on our side so they don't want to, well, give you reason for _not _being on our side if you get what I mean."

"Good," said Nick with obvious relief. "Thanks, Monroe. Great job. I mean it." He knew he was feeling a little overly emotional but watching one friendship fall apart made him starkly realise the importance of being grateful for the friends he still had.

Monroe just shrugged it off with a wave of his hand, though it was clear that he was flattered by the compliment.

Nick's phone rang that moment and he glanced down at it, seeing it was the station calling. "Sorry," he said to Monroe before answering the call. "Burkhardt..." It was a desk sergeant letting him know that the grocery store owner's son had turned up at the station to be interviewed. "Thanks, I'm on my way," he confirmed before ending the call.

"No rest for the wicked..." muttered Monroe with a grin.

"Tell me about it," Nick said, rolling his eyes. "Hey, sorry to ask, but do you have time to give me a lift to the station? I walked here as Hank took the car."

"Yeah, no problem." Monroe rose from his chair and glancing around the room to find his keys. "You want to come over afterwards again? You look like you need the company."

Nick gave a genuine smile back. "Yeah, do you know, I think that'll be good," he admitted.

He pulled himself out of the comfortable embrace of the couch, and he and Monroe left the house, neither seeing Hank's car start up quietly further down the street.

...

When Hank returned to the station he hung back long enough for Nick not to notice his arrival. He still couldn't fully face what he was doing but he also knew he couldn't let it go. Something had snapped deep inside him and suddenly there was no greater priority in his mind than forcing the secrets out of his partner.

He followed Nick up to their floor and saw him greet a young man who was presumably the shopkeeper's son. He then watched quietly as they went into an unoccupied interview room, and Hank found himself following. He couldn't imagine what he expected to overhear but he went all the same, quietly entering the viewing room that allowed him to be an invisible observer. He stood with a disturbing calm, staring darkly into the adjoining room at the interview that had now just begun.

On the other side of the glass, Nick was giving a reassuring smile to the shopkeeper's son seated opposite. "James, thanks for coming in. This shouldn't take long." He slid the photo of John Connell across the table. "Do you recognise this man?"

After a few moments' inspection, the young man shook his head. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Nick said. "Tell me about your impression of Douglas Klein then."

"Well..." James began, considering the question, "he was a quiet guy, not many friends but nice though, you know? It was more that he just preferred his own company." He looked genuinely saddened. "I wouldn't've thought he'd ever hurt anyone. Good guy."

Nick nodded, mentally noting that James' opinion of Klein seemed to be the popular one. "Was he acting strangely recently? Out of character?"

"Yeah, at the end he was, though I don't really know why." James gave a frustrated sigh as though he wished he could have known more. "He was stressed, which was not like him as he was a laid back type of guy. And he seemed pretty jumpy."

"Yeah," said Nick. "Your dad thought that too."

James' expression changed and he began to look a little cautious. "I can't really say a lot more than that, you know...?"

Nick had been expecting that. If James' father was a Hamsterfreund then his son would be too, and he clearly wanted to talk more openly than they could in an official capacity. He smiled encouragingly and relaxed a little more in his chair. "Don't worry, this isn't being taped," he said, and then waited.

It took James a few moments to work out what he wanted to say.

"My dad told me what you are," he said finally, looking a little shocked as though he couldn't still quite believe that it was true.

"Good," said Nick with a nod, careful to keep the smile on his face. Hamsterfreunde seemed to have a nervous disposition by default and while James was certainly more courageous than Nick had expected, he didn't want to spook him.

"Okay..." James looked anxious but forged ahead. "Then you know Doug was a Hamsterfreund?"

"Yeah. Do you think that's why he was killed?"

"Maybe," said James, looking concerned. "Only a few days ago when I was leaving on a delivery, I saw Doug looking out the window of the store and he just freaked out. He was looking at a car across the street and I think there was someone in their watching him. A man."

Nick leaned forward in his chair, interested. "Did you get a good look? Did you get the plates?"

James shook his head. "No, sorry, I was late for my rounds and I just..." He looked distressed and Nick felt sorry for the young man. "I just never thought it was a big deal really, you know? I didn't know..." His voice broke a little as guilt and regret flowed through him.

Nick instinctively reached across the table and put a hand on James' arm for a moment, and while the young Hamsterfreund jumped a little at the contact, he didn't pull away and seemed if anything both surprised and grateful for the gesture.

"Was the guy in the car human?" Nick asked quietly, his eyes serious.

James met his stare. "Not sure. He wasn't looking like anything other than human at the time, and I can tell you I don't recognise him as a regular at Hafen or any of the other Wesen bars around town, and I go to them a lot."

Nick didn't speak for a moment as he nodded almost absentmindedly in thought. He pulled out his phone and flicked to a case photo of Simon Richter he had stored on it. "Could it be this guy?"

James leaned forward to take a good look at the small screen. "Yeah... could be," he said with growing worry. "He was over the street, but this guy's the right general look from what I could see. Also..." and he looked more concerned suddenly, "I think I recognise him from the store. He might have been in there a few times." He began to look panicked. "That's not good, is it." It wasn't a question.

Nick thought about lying to save the young man some worry but it didn't seem the right thing to do. "No, it's not," he admitted.

James nodded sedately. "Is the man Wesen?"

"Yes."

"Is he dangerous?"

Nick paused for a short moment. "He could be. There's no reason to think he's after you though, but just be careful, okay?"

"Okay."

Nick rose from his chair and gestured to James that the interview was over. He decided to walk him out just to make sure he was not too scared, and also because he thought he might head back to Monroe's again to continue their conversation, especially as he now had some more information to share.

As the door to the interview room shut behind him leaving an empty space once more, Hank didn't move a muscle as he stood staring through the glass. He couldn't move. He couldn't believe what he had just heard.

Nick Burkhardt – his partner and until recently his closest friend – was part of the Wesen world. Hank couldn't believe it. Suddenly his mind was flooded with every memory of Nick's suspicious behaviour and it all started adding up. During their serial killer case they had visited Hafen that the boy had just mentioned was a _Wesen_ bar, and when Nick had gone inside the entire crowd had acted oddly strange around him and _only_ him. Hank had tried to write it off as nervousness around cops but that didn't explain why it seemed like an entire unspoken conversation had been happening between Nick and the room's patrons, all to avoid letting Hank in on the secret.

And what a secret it was! Worst of all, the Hamsterfreund boy had said the most worrying line of all to Nick just a moment before. He had said, 'My dad told me what you are.' _What_ you are. Not _who_ you are.

Nick Burkhardt was Wesen.

Not only that, but he must be some frightening kind of creature that even other Wesen were terrified by. Hank had never forgotten the looks on the faces of the people – _creatures – _in Hafen when they had seen Nick walk in. They were scared. _Really_ scared.

_Hell, _thought Hank and he shook his head in jaw-dropping shock. _My partner's a demon._

...

It was late afternoon when Hank pulled his car in to the curb down the road from Monroe's house again. He knew Nick was back at the strange man's home again, and his instincts told him that Monroe was somehow involved in the tangle of lies that surrounded his partner's life.

He slowly got out of his car and walked down the street, pleased to note that there was practically no one around. It meant that when he casually turned into Monroe's property and made his way quietly around to the side wall, no one noticed.

Being careful to keep quiet, he peered through the corner of the nearest window and found he was looking into the living room. Nick and Monroe were seated opposite each other, not talking loudly enough for him to hear, but there was one thing that made Hank freeze in horrified disbelief. There was a long fur-lined coat hanging over a side chair, and he recognised it. That very distinctive coat was the one the beast that had threatened and attacked him had been wearing only the night before.

Hank flattened himself back against the wall of the house, completely unable to move for a few beats of his heart. Nick's friend Monroe had tried to kill him! And it seemed that there was no way that Nick wasn't aware of it, so that meant Nick had been actively involved in trying to kill him.

Though, Hank thought, as he stared unfocused and wide-eyed as his world kept unravelling around him, he shouldn't be surprised, as Simon had already told him that Wesen were evil. They had no humanity in them and gained pleasure from deception and destruction.

Did Nick somehow know that Hank had found out about the Wesen world and was trying to silence him? Hank felt an anger flood through him suddenly. It was fuelled with outrage and hurt, betrayal and a deep-seated knowing that he would die taking down the creatures that threatened him and his fellow humans if he had to. He slowly turned back to the window to peer through again, not even sure what he was going to do but knowing whatever went down, it was going to do so now.

What greeted him as he looked through the glass was the hulking figure of Monroe, staring down at him with red in his eyes and his nose crinkling as he took in the scent he had identified hiding outside his home.

Hank let out an involuntary yell, knowing what the man was but still appalled to see the creature in front of him once more. He did the only thing he could think of as his cop instincts took hold. He reached for his gun and aimed it though the glass right at the beast's heart.

"_NO!_" Nick yelled, and Hank only had a split second to almost distractedly notice that his partner was on his feet and staring in horror at the scene unfolding.

But it was too late. Hank's finger closed on the trigger and he felt the bullet rip out of its chamber.

Moving too fast for Hank's human eye to track, Monroe was already out of the bullet's trajectory and he came crashing forward through the glass of his window, slamming into Hank and flattening him with bone-crushing force into the ground.

Hank fought for his life, primal terror and a desperate urge not to die surging adrenaline through him, but he was not even nearly strong enough against the brute force of the beast holding him fast to the ground.

"_Don't hurt him!_"

The moment between Monroe and Hank, where instinct overtook them both, broke as Nick's words pierced the air behind them. Hank was panting hard with fear but as he stared up into Monroe's half-transformed face, he saw the red eyes slowly turn human again and the creature's head arched around to stare at his partner.

"Are you talking to me or him?" Monroe asked absurdly casually, considering what had just taken place. "Because I nearly got shot then, in case you've forgotten." He sounded almost petulant.

Nick stood staring down through the broken glass at the two men below and couldn't speak for a moment until the craziness of the situation snapped within him. An inane laugh escaped him but not because there was anything funny but more because there was too much emotion pent up inside him that something had to break.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" he gasped, staring disbelievingly at his Blutbaden friend.

Hank just stared in horror between the two men, completely at a loss for how to react. He had stopped struggling, partly due to the futility and partly as he was watching in morbid fascination at the exchange taking place above him.

"Well..." Monroe grumbled, shaking the last of the beast out of his system. "It's a fair question." He looked down at Hank pinned below him and gave a bafflingly disproving look. "You're paying for that window," he said sternly. "And that's a house rule from now on."

Hank couldn't see but Nick let out a small snort of disbelief.

"Well, you better come in them," Monroe sighed, ignoring Hank's anger and shock as though it was to be expected, and in one sudden move he grabbed the man beneath him and turned to leap back and upward, carrying them both with unnatural strength back through the broken window and into his living room.

Nick had sidestepped out of the way as they came through, and Monroe then released Hank, letting him scramble desperately away against the far wall and watched as he searched himself for the gun that was no longer there as it had fallen aside in the struggle.

"Monroe!" Nick admonished in horror. "You could have used the _door_!"

Monroe just shrugged as he stared over at the traumatised and affronted Hank. "Not meaning to burst your bubble, Nick, but I really don't think it would've made any difference to how he's taking this."

Nick just shook his head in incredulity, and in a single moment the chaos of the last few minutes came to a sudden silence and the three men were left staring at each other, no one speaking.

Hank broke first. The tension in him snapped again and he let loose every ounce of anger and confusion and horror that he had swarming around inside him.

"Stay away from me! I know what you are, you're not _human_!" He was staring at Nick but he turned to jab his finger madly in Monroe's direction, eyes wild. "You tried to kill me! I _know_ it was you last night – you're _both _trying to kill me!"

Nick looked equally as horrified as he rushed to explain himself. "_No!_ We were just trying to scare you off, to protect you! It was too dangerous–"

Hank cut him off. "No. _No._ Don't bother," he said bitingly, looking horribly betrayed and disgusted at his estranged friend. "I wouldn't trust a word out of your mouth. You've been lying to me, hiding things from me. I heard you in the interview room today talking with your Wesen buddy!"

"You were watching?" The words were out of Nick's mouth before he could think that such a minor point hardly mattered.

"Yeah, I was watching," Hank spat, shaking his head in horror. "I heard _everything_. You're a beast. A _demon_. You're one of them. You made a fool of me all this time." The pain in his voice was almost more than Nick could handle. "I thought we were friends and now I find out you were just playing with me, until what? Until I got too close and you had to send _him_ to kill me?" He waved his arm wildly in the direction of Monroe. "Well, I'm not that easy to kill, and I will make you pay, _Wesen. _I will track down the Grimm and he will be strong enough to take you both down for what you've done. I'll –"

"I'm not Wesen!" Nick denied, cutting Hank's rant off mid-stream. He was as horrified as Hank was at the outpouring directed at him but his mind was speeding wildly and had latched onto the only thing now that might save him.

"Don't lie to me," Hank sneered. "It's too late for that. You can't save yourself. The Grimm will hunt you and –"

"_I'm_ the Grimm."

Hank stumbled on his threat but it was almost as though he didn't quite hear Nick's admission. "No, the Grimm will kill _you_ –"

"_I'm_ the Grimm, Hank." Nick was walking forward now, putting everything into his words, his eyes, _everything_ that he could to make Hank believe him. "The one you're looking for, it's _me_. I'm not Wesen. I'm _Grimm."_

Hank just stared back at his partner, completely as a loss for words. "No, that doesn't make _sense_," he began finally, shaking his head in mad confusion. "If you were the Grimm you'd be _hunting_ Wesen not sitting in their freakin' _living room!_" An ache was pounding in his head at the stress and confusion flooding through him.

"The world's not what you think it is," said Nick, forging ahead and trying to keep his voice even and persuasive as everything depended on it. "Wesen aren't all evil, Hank. Simon Richter _lied_ to you. He's _manipulating_ you."

That stopped Hank a moment as he struggled to keep up with the change of track. "Simon's an expert, he _knows –"_

"He's Wesen."

Hank opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out for a cold moment. "No..."

Nick looked pained but pushed on. "It's true. Everything he's told you, he's been twisting the truth to trick you into hating Wesen so much you'll want to track me down to kill them all."

"Why? _Why_ would he do that?" Hank's voice broke as he looked almost pleadingly at Nick, wanting to believe him but not quite able to.

"Because he wants to kill me," Nick replied simply and quietly. "He couldn't track me on his own and so he found someone with the resources of the police force at his disposal. He's using you to hunt me."

"It's all true," Monroe spoke, his voice pitched calm, but Hank snapped his head around to glare at the Blutbad instead.

"Oh, and you saying it makes it real does it?" Hank retorted sarcastically.

"Yes," said Monroe honestly, and the tone of his voice stopped Hank for a small moment. "I _am_ Wesen. Blutbaden. And the thing about us is that we have one hell of a sense of smell and I know the scent of Wesen when it's nearby and I can tell you when Richter came after me last night, there was barely any human in him."

Hank was stunned. He didn't want to believe Monroe's words but looking at him and Nick as his partner stared desperately back at him, he knew somewhere inside that they were speaking the truth. He fought against accepting it, not wanting to believe that he had been so deeply manipulated by his new friend.

He gave a dazed glance to the side and sat down heavily and suddenly in the chair he had located there. His head fell into his hands and he did nothing but breathe heavily for a minute, Nick and Monroe waiting frozen in silence, not wanting to do anything to break the fragile moment.

It took a while longer but finally Hank raised his head and stared with tired eyes at the two men waiting for his response.

"You're the Grimm," he said to Nick, speaking it out loud as though only to confirm it to himself. Nick nodded, not quite daring to speak. Hank's head turned to Monroe. "You're...'Blutbaden'?"

"Reformed," Monroe said with an almost embarrassed smile as though he thought that of all things was what needed explaining to the cop. "I work with Nick to stop rogue Wesen from causing trouble for anyone – whether they be other Wesen or human."

Hank nodded slowly, still a little dazed and not quite believing the conversation he was having. "So, you're what... Nick's _other_ partner?"

There was a slightly awkward pause before Monroe replied. "Well...something like that, yeah..." he said, letting his voice trail off and instead glancing to Nick to make him finish the explanation.

Hank's head tracked the movement and he stared at his – _their – _partner. "Nick...?" He felt an absurd moment of annoyed hurt at realising he wasn't Nick's only partner.

Nick, for his part, had the decency to look a little shamed. "You're both, you know, important to me..." he started, and then cursed himself silently at how ridiculous that sounded out loud. "I mean, _look," _he tried again, looking to Hank. "Monroe's my partner in the Wesen world. I only found out I was a Grimm recently – I kind of inherited it – and Monroe, well, he's been a mentor to me and I don't think I would've survived without him." The grateful look Nick gave his Blutbaden friend softened something in Hank.

Hank's brain finally clicked into gear properly and he stared at the two men. "You really _are_ partners," he said finally, amazed. "You're Grimm and Wesen, and you _work_ together." He almost barked out a short laugh but it ended up more as a grunt as there was still too much frayed emotion in him to relax properly. "That's just crazy..." He stared at them in wonderment as his world started to slowly calm down.

"Yeah, but I don't complain about him working with you as well," said Monroe with a shrug. "I'm happy you take him half the time. He'd drive me insane if I had to deal with a Grimm as a full-time job."

Nick reflexively reached over and gave his friend a light punch to the arm and Monroe gave a quick grin back. That one moment of casual ease between them spoke more to Hank than anything else, and he took a slow, deep breath and forced his mind to let go of everything he thought he knew about the Wesen world and be brave enough to trust his friend and partner once more. He knew it was what he wanted. He had hated every moment of the distance that had forced itself between them, and he wanted nothing more than for everything to return to normal.

_Well, _he thought to himself. _Almost normal._

"So... We need to talk about Simon Richter," said Nick with a serious look in his eye as he saw Hank becoming more receptive. "You believe me that he's been manipulating you?"

Slowly, Hank nodded. "Yeah," he sighed. "I hate to admit that I didn't see what he was doing, but I believe you. My instincts are usually better than that; I can't believe I was so _wrong..._"

"Hey" Nick interjected before his friend could become too hard on himself. "It's not your fault. It's been a tough few days for you. I mean, you shot someone and then you discovered there are other species in existence that you'd never heard of... I think you can cut yourself a break!" A small smile crept to the side of Nick's mouth as he tried to lighten the mood.

It seemed to work as Hank let out a soft bark of laughter. "Yeah, and speaking of the Wesen world, are you planning on telling me what that's actually all about? And the _truth_ this time, please."

Nick smiled. He had been hoping one day to have this conversation with Hank– no lies, no half-truths –and now the right opportunity had finally come. It had been one hell of a road to get there.

'Well, Hank..." Nick began, looking over to Monroe who had now perched himself on the side of a chair and was watching with interest, "As I said: I'm a Grimm."

Monroe couldn't help himself. "He's our resident Portland Grimm, he – "

"Yes, _thanks_, Monroe, I think I've got this," said Nick loudly, cutting his friend off before he made his big explanation into a double act.

Monroe mumbled what sounded suspiciously like 'Ex_cuse_ me for talking in my own home' under his breath but quietened down and let Nick continue alone.

"So," Nick tried again, "Being a Grimm is something you inherit – it's my family line. Since the original Brothers Grimm who first saw Wesen for what they were and wrote tales about them, each generation since have hunted them down." He looked pained as he said that. "But Wesen are not all bad; not by a long shot. There's as much variation in them as there is in humans – they can be good, bad, shy, annoying... Stereotyping each species only goes so far. I'm a Grimm and I'm different to every ancestor of mine that has come before me."

"He has to fight prejudice in the Wesen community because they all expect him to cut their heads off," said Monroe. Nick didn't bother rebuking his friend for interrupting again because it was a fair observation. "Grimm are like nightmares to us," Monroe added, "and before Nick I didn't know they could be any different."

"Yeah," Nick shrugged, "but lucky for me, Monroe was the first Wesen I properly met and, well, that changed everything."

"So, you said before that you only realised you're a Grimm pretty recently?" asked Hank astutely. "So you found out sometime around when you met Monroe during the child kidnapping case?"

Nick nodded.

"And Grimm can see Wesen in their real form all the time?" Hank asked.

"Well, nearly," said Nick. "We can see them when they aren't concentrating on maintaining their human form, like when they lose control of their emotions or when they choose to change."

"How can you fight them though – the bad ones I mean," Hank asked, thinking of how powerful Monroe's strength had been during their struggle. "Their strength is incredible."

'He's got Grimm mojo. It's like a superpower," said Monroe loudly, not feeling the need to clarify that revelation any further.

Nick had a suspicion Monroe was enjoying himself just a little too much.

"It's not a superpower," Nick clarified with a shake of his head as he saw Hank's eyes widen. "It's just that I can sense when Wesen are around, and I can be stronger and faster when I need to so I can hold my own against some of the tougher Wesen species." He wasn't going to indulge Monroe any further by acknowledging he was one of those species. "I'm learning as I go. There might be more to being a Grimm, but my aunt died before she could teach me anything."

That made Hank's eyebrows shoot up and he gaped in amazement. "Your _aunt_ was a Grimm?" A mental image of the woman came to his mind. "_Aunt Marie?"_

"She was scarier than Nick," said Monroe with an impressed tone and he gave an involuntary shudder.

Nick looked like he was going to take offense but Monroe just shot him a look that seemed to say, _You can't argue with the truth._

"_Woah_..." Hank let a breath out between his teeth. "Didn't expect that."

"No, well, neither did I," said Nick with a quirked smile.

Hank was starting to understand just what a life-altering hand Nick had been dealt. A thought suddenly occurred to him. "So..." he started, and his forehead wrinkled in concentration as he took the new information in. "If you're a Grimm does that mean you're not human?" He tried to make the question sound as non-judgemental as he could considering his recent prejudice.

"I'm human," Nick replied with a smile.

"_Well_..." The word came from across the room again.

Nick turned and shot Monroe an incredulous look. "_What_?"

Monroe shrugged innocently. "Just saying... You've got the Grimm powers. You can see Wesen. We can see you as something different to your run-of-the-mill human..." He gave a tilt of the head as he seemed to be examining Nick in a new light.

Nick wished he had something to throw at the Blutbad but settled for a piercing glare that sadly had no effect at all. He was fairly certain Monroe was just trying to bait him, but it actually raised a good point that he had tried not to think too far into on many occasions before. "Okay," he said finally, returning to look at Hank who had been a little thrown by that interaction, "So, it might be better to say that until proven otherwise I _think_ I'm human – just a _different_ type."

"Not that there's anything wrong with being anything else," Monroe declared with a pointed look to his friend.

"Wasn't even thinking it," Nick retorted in his humouring voice, his eyes twinkling a little as he placated his friend.

Hank decided he had better keep the conversation moving along before the two men were lost in their own world again. He felt a twinge of jealousy again at the easy closeness of Nick and Monroe's relationship, but he also knew that from now on he would work to patch his own friendship up with Nick. He was starting to realise more what his friend must have been going through on his own, not feeling he could tell Hank for fear he wouldn't believe him. _Would I have?_ thought Hank. He just wasn't sure.

He shook the thought away, bringing his mind back to the present. "Do you know what Simon's plan really is?" he asked, happy to have something concrete to focus on. "I mean, we know he is using me to find you, but is he going after other Wesen to then if he's trying to convince me to kill any I find?"

"We don't really know," Nick admitted with a sigh. "Today at the station when I was interviewing the shopkeeper's son he was fairly certain Richter had been hanging around outside the store where Klein worked, so he must've been following him. Same goes for Connell. You mentioned in your report that his widow said he'd been acting paranoid so it wouldn't be a big leap to think Richter was also following him." Nick's eyes became darker and more serious as he stared at Hank. "If Richter was stalking either of them the night you shot Klein then we think there's every chance it was actually Richter who killed Connell. It makes sense. We're also sure that Richter is a type of Wesen called a Schleierheber and they are the ones that have the ability to breathe on humans to enable them to see Wesen for what they are. He breathed on you that night, not Klein."

Hank was just stunned. There was so much new information revealed to him in that one conversation that it almost too much. He had been sitting tense and upright on the edge of his chair but now he just let go, unable to sustain it any longer. With a loud huff of breath Hank slumped back into the soft padding behind him and just shook his head slowly in wonderment for a quiet moment.

He had been so sure of what Simon had told him and now everything had been turned upside down. Now that he was finally adjusting to that, Nick calmly told him that he already knew who the killer was in their case and he was clearly already working on how to take him down.

Hank felt like he was a few steps behind in a game he was only starting to learn, but regardless he actually felt an assuredness in him that he hadn't realised had been missing for a long time. It was the feeling of stability and peace that came from trusting his partner and friend once again. It surprised him that Nick could have such an effect on his mood, and yet it was clear that he did for Hank realised that whatever happened from this point forward, as long as things were right between him and Nick it would all work out. They had been partners too long for that not to be important.

"Okay…" Hank said in a far calmer voice than he had spoken in so far that afternoon, "I believe you, though promise me one thing."

Nick just nodded but didn't speak.

"Promise me you won't lie to me again," finished Hank, looking his partner in the eyes with a deep intensity. "I don't want to ever have that gap between us again. We're partners, and I've got your back, and you need to trust me to have yours."

Nick understood the importance of what had been said. He let his breath out a little shakily, feeling a relief inside as his saw his friendship find ground again. "I swear," he said, solemnly. "No more lies."

It was a good moment, only broken when Nick caught a look on Monroe's face out the side of his eye. The Blutbad, as he should have expected, was grinning like an idiot at the scene unfolding in front of him.

"What?" Monroe said when he saw Nick start to give him a teasing look. "Dude, that was _sweet_, what with the reconnection and–"

"Monroe!" Nick just shook his head in embarrassment, though he was happy to see Hank trying to hide a smile too.

Monroe looked completely unabashed. "Ex_cuse _me for having feelings…" he grumbled, though Nick could see a certain impishness in his eye.

Monroe rose from his chair thinking to head for the kitchen and fetch some drinks now the mood had settled, but Hank took the opportunity to rise also and look at his watch. "I really should be going," he said.

Nick rose too and seemed a little worried that they might have left things unresolved, but Hank belayed any fears by giving a reassuring quick smile. "Don't worry, everything's good now," he said with a nod. "It's just been a _long_ day, you know…"

Nick almost laughed. That was an understatement to say the least. "Yeah, I'm sorry, you probably want to return back to the real world again and the joys of paperwork and instant coffee at the station?"

Hank did laugh, and he felt good for it. "They've never sounded so appealing," he admitted, only half joking.

"Well, nice to properly meet you then, Hank," said Monroe who had come over to give what was probably not the most accurate summary of their re-introduction. "Sorry for attacking you twice – I didn't really mean it."

Hank was temporarily at a loss for words for how to respond that that casual farewell, but a choked back snort of laughter from Nick who always secretly enjoyed Monroe's occasionally unique way of conversing put a stop to any awkwardness.

"Sure," Hank acknowledged finally, a little unsure what the correct reply _was_ in that situation so he just reached his hand out. "Good to meet you too."

Monroe shook it and gave him a quick, friendly pat on the shoulder.

As Hank turned to walk out the door, he suddenly paused as though a thought came to him. Nick nearly walked into his back as he had started following behind.

"What?" Nick asked, starting to look worried again at the more serious expression on his partner's face.

"Can I ask you something?" He sounded almost uncertain.

Nick moved from worried to confused at Hank's sudden turn of hesitation. "Sure," he said, waiting for his friend to continue.

Hank took a moment and there was a deep seriousness in his eyes that told Nick that whatever was coming was important. "What type of Wesen did I kill?"

Nick understood immediately what was bothering his partner. "He was a Hamsterfreund."

Hank nodded quietly, remembering the shop assistant mentioning that name. "What are they like?"

Nick almost didn't want to say but he knew Hank wouldn't accept anything less than the truth. "They're a quiet, friendly species, not aggressive."

There was more silence as Hank considered Nick's response. "So he was the nice guy they all said he was?"

"Hank..." Nick started, not wanting his friend to fall into regret over the man's death. "You didn't know..."

"I know," Hank sighed, "but I remember that moment when I shot him and I was so freaked out by his face that I was sure he was trying to kill me... He was probably just trying to get away from Simon and he ran into me by accident. I didn't think it through..."

Nick stepped forward and put a hand on his partner's shoulder, forcing him to meet his gaze. "It's not your _fault_," he said. "You didn't _know._"

Hank nodded slowly. He was a cop and he knew there were regrets there that were difficult to handle, but what was far more important was what he did to make them right. There was a resolve in his eyes when he next spoke. "We will find out the truth, and Richter will pay for this," he said quietly. "I will make sure Douglas Klein gets justice."

He turned and walked out the door, and Monroe looked to Nick as he did so with approval in his eyes.

**...**

It was mid afternoon as Nick and Monroe stood outside the Blutbad's home, watching Hank get in his car down the end of the street and drive away.

"We've got another problem, you know," said Monroe, significantly. He turned his head to look at Nick who just nodded back.

"Renard," he replied simply.

"Yes."

They stood in quietness as both men gathered their thoughts.

Nick was the first to speak. "It's not that I think he'll mind that we've let Hank in on what's really going on," he began slowly. "It's just that I don't see how Hank can know about what we do without knowing about Renard's involvement. We work together too closely and, frankly, I don't want to lie to Hank anymore. I promised him."

Monroe could see the conflict in Nick's eyes. "Hey, Nick..." he began supportively and reached over to put a hand on his friend's arm, "you don't need to worry. It's Renard's decision from here as to what he wants Hank to know, so I say we just tell him what's happened and let him make a call about what he wants to do."

Nick nodded and sighed loudly, giving a wry grin. "Well, I was hoping for a quiet afternoon, but looks like there's still no rest for the wicked..."

Monroe let out a short bark of laugher but then let his face fall to a more serious expression. "How about I call Renard just to give him the heads up that you're on your way in. I'll let him know roughly what's just happened as you're going to need to have a plan for how to talk to Hank about the Wesen side of this case from potentially the minute you get back to the station, as he's already said he wants to be involved."

"That's a good idea," Nick admitted, agreeing that it would at least give Renard time to think about his response before Nick turned up hoping for a quick answer. He smiled. "I can then handle it from there."

"Good," replied Monroe with a shrug. "That at least frees up my afternoon to track down a window repairer. Should have the number from _last_ time it broke..." he added pointedly.

Nick couldn't help but grin at the reference to one of their earliest meetings and wisely turned his head away before his friend saw his expression. He began walking over to his car. "See you later tonight?" he called over his shoulder.

"Yeah, see you," replied Monroe, used to Nick practically living at his home in recent times, and already distracted with thoughts of repairs as he made his way back indoors.

After the sound of the front door closing and the fading noise of Nick's car as it drove away, the street outside fell silent once more.

...

Back at the station, Hank arrived not long before Nick as he had been caught in traffic during his return journey. He waited for his partner at the bottom of the elevators and they rode up together, stepping out into the corridor upon reaching their floor.

Renard happened to be walking past and turned to see them both as they arrived. "I'd like a word," he said to Nick, who nodded. Hank took the hint and left them and he went to return to his desk.

The side corridor near the elevators was quite empty which was surprising for that time of day, so rather than wait to enter Renard's office for privacy, they started their conversation in the nearby area.

"Monroe called you?" Nick asked.

Renard nodded, looking amazingly composed considering news of Hank's discovery must surely have warranted surprise at the least. "He did, and it sounds like it worked out for the best."

Nick gave an incredulous expression indicating _he_ didn't think that the whole encounter had been the smooth operation Renard seemed to be envisaging, regardless of its final outcome.

Renard just smiled at Nick's look. "Well, I wouldn't have thought he would take it calmly. It was never going to be _easy_ but you handled it well. Good job."

He sounded in that moment so much like a supportive police chief rather than a Grimm's partner and friend that Nick just quirked the side of his mouth up and said "Thanks, boss" in a teasingly sarcastic tone.

Renard took the hint. "You know what I mean," he acknowledged with a small shrug and a smile, not at all offended by the response. "So you want to know what I'm going to tell him about me?"

Nick just laughed. "Sorry," he said when Renard looked at him with a confused expression. "It's just that you're taking this so easily, like having one of your detectives find out about the Wesen world is something that happens every day. Doesn't anything catch you off guard?"

After a small half-grin, Renard replied. "I've been at this longer than you, and trust me when I say that _this_ is not the most shocking news I've ever heard. Not much surprises me anymore."

Nick just made a small sound indicating that he didn't doubt that for a moment.

"Oh, and Nick, just to side track you a moment," Renard continued as he remembered the activities of his own morning, "I let Monroe know this on the phone, but I've now spoken to the source I've tracked down. The man didn't know much but confirmed Richter's new in town and has been asking questions trying to find you. He's been angry at the Wesen population for not activity attempting to track you down and kill you."

The darkness crept into the king's eyes for a moment. "I suspect some of his anger while questioning them was not expressed in words alone. I've just heard reports of a few Wesen being found bashed and they're too scared to talk." Renard's voice was dangerously low as he thought of the rogue Schleierheber. "I don't like my people being hurt, and I don't like Wesen thinking they can take the law into their own hands."

Nick instinctively stepped closer to the king and placed a hand on his arm, placating his simmering displeasure. He understood how the man felt but they needed to all have clear heads to devise a plan that would resolve this problem over both the Wesen and human worlds. They needed something that didn't solely involve a fatal wound in the darkness and a body that would never be found, as Nick suspected Renard was currently harbouring fantasies of in his mind.

"How about we go to your office where it's a little more private," Nick said quietly, as he had started noticing the foot traffic nearby had began to drift in their direction, and anyone seeing the captain looking as homicidal as he had in that moment might start wondering about things that they shouldn't.

The shadows behind Renard's eyes retreated and he forced control back into himself again. "Good idea," he acknowledged, and they turned back into the main corridor and set off together in the direction of his room.

Unseen, Hank watched them go.

His jaw slackened as he reacted to what he had just overheard take place between his partner and captain in the supposed privacy of the side corridor.

The only reason Hank found himself back in the corridor again was that he had returned to his desk before only to realise that he would need to speak to his captain about Simon Richter. So far he had pushed hard that Richter was just a witness, but after his talk with Nick that afternoon he realised he would have to find a way to let Renard know that he now had serious doubts about Richter and would be moving him to their suspect list. He could hardly tell his captain the actual truth as he didn't think pitching a story about Wesen would be the best career move. As he hadn't known whether Renard was just arriving or leaving the station when they met at the elevators, Hank thought it best to return and have a quick work with him then.

As he had rounded the corridor he had heard Nick talking openly to Renard about Wesen. _Wesen!_ Hank thought. To the _Captain! _

Not only that but Renard didn't seem at all surprised. He actually knew all about Wesen and it almost sounded like he might be one himself. It was completely insane.

Hank was just gobsmacked, not even able to comprehend the idea of the Portland Police Chief not being human. As he watched the two men walk to Renard's office, Hank snapped into action. He flashed back in a split second to the months of horrible lies and evasion that had gone on with Nick when Hank had never confronted him, and he knew that he could not go through that again.

Without even thinking, Hank stormed after his colleagues and burst through the office door only a few moments after Nick and Renard had shut it behind them.

"What the _hell?" _

The two men turned in surprise to see who the outburst had come from.

"Detective–" began Renard in a reprimanding voice, but he was cut off.

"Oh, _no_," interrupted Hank, practically vibrating with forceful determination as he closed the door firmly behind him to give them privacy. "This needs saying and I'm not leaving until I do." He stared at his captain, mouth gaping open again. "You _know_." He turned his head to look at Nick. "He _knows." _

Nick realised immediately what must have happened; that Hank must have overheard him talking to Renard in the corridor. "Hank –"

"_No_, Nick," Hank said forcefully, hurt once more. "You _promised _you wouldn't lie to me and now I find out you were keeping more secrets –"

"_NO_." Nick wouldn't let his friend fume out of control this time. "No," he repeated, quieter but with focused seriousness. "I didn't lie to you. I kept a secret that was _not_ mine to tell and I won't apologise for that." Conviction burned in his eyes as he spoke and Hank felt some of the anger in him dissipate.

Hank opened his mouth to speak again, wanting to let the indignation of being left out of another secret flow from him, but he forced his reaction down. Nick was right and Hank knew it. It wasn't Nick's place to speak about Renard and he shouldn't expect him to break confidence out of turn. If his emotions weren't so frayed after the day's events Hank would have seen that sooner.

He took a few breaths, painfully ignoring his wounded pride. "You're right," he said more calmly, "I'm sorry..." He stared at his captain again, returning to his first thought that he couldn't hold back any longer. "You _know_ about Wesen?"

Renard nodded, keeping his emotions calm. "I do."

Hank wasn't slow on the uptake and had already realised what that would mean. "You must work together then, when something involving Wesen comes by our desks? That's why you're spending so much time together?"

"Yes," Renard nodded again. "We do."

"Okay..." said Hank, shaking his head in amazement as he slowly pieced together his thoughts. Then, the big question his mind almost didn't know how to process finally came out. "Are you...?" He actually couldn't bring himself to say it.

He didn't need to. Renard knew exactly what he meant. "Wesen?" the captain said. "Yes, I am."

Renard stated his admission so matter-of-factly Hank felt almost out of place looking stunned even though he was sure the man spoke the truth.

"Oh."

It wasn't the most intelligent response but it was the best Hank could do in that moment.

"Are you okay, Hank?" Nick asked with growing concern when the silence following his partner's one word had drawn out too long.

Hank continued staring at Renard but no words came out. Nick was starting to become more than a little worried this might have been one surprise too many for the man.

"I'm good," Hank finally replied faintly, not looking at all like that was the truth.

Renard, for his part, hadn't spoken any further and just waited patiently for his detective to mentally regroup. It took a few minutes more but Hank finally did.

"You said 'my people'."

Renard looked confused for a moment at Hank's new statement until he realised that the man was referring to the conversation he had overhead near the elevators when Renard was speaking about the Wesen population.

"Oh...yes, I did," he said slowly. At the back of his mind, Renard had been wondering how much he was going to reveal to Hank about his Wesen life, but it looked like the answer was 'everything'. He either trusted Hank or he didn't, and so it was time to prove it.

"I'm Wesen royalty," Renard said, looking Hank squarely in the eyes.

The silence of before was nothing compared to the one that was expanding into the room now. Hank returned to staring at his captain, as though not quite understanding. "_Royalty_...?" he finally croaked out.

Renard nodded, being very careful with how he handled the delicate conversation, "The Wesen world is run on the feudal system, and through a chain of command, each city has its own local regent. I am the King of Portland."

A strange noise came out of Hank that sounded like a slightly hysterical cough, followed by silence. Nick continued looking anxiously at his partner, thinking that perhaps he was most definitely right in thinking they had just introduced one revelation too many and something had just broken in Hank's mind.

"The Kind of Portland." Hank said finally, his voice slightly more high-pitched than usual. "The _King_. Of _Portland_."

"It's more an administrative title in modern times," Renard supplied, unsure whether than might help the situation.

"Hank...?" said Nick carefully to his friend. "You still with us?"

Hank nodded, trying hard to be alright with what he was hearing, but it was one hell of a shock. His whole _world_ wasn't what it seemed, and now to top that off, his Captain was a king. A _king. _An insane thought suddenly hit him and he began speaking it out loud without thinking. "Sir...?"

"Yes?" said Renard in the most encouraging voice he could muster.

Hank was looking horrified. "I don't have to... I mean, should I be..." He couldn't quite finish the question so he tried for the key point. "Your _Highness_?"

Renard almost laughed as he realised what Hank wanted to ask, but schooled his reaction before he insulted his detective. "No," he said quickly. "You don't have to call me that. Address me as you usually do."

The relief that flooded through Hank was so obvious it was almost comical. He turned his head and looked in amazement at Nick. "How do you take all this so well?" he asked in amazement. He was astounded that his partner could have learned about his Grimm birthright, the Wesen world, and royal revelations, and yet didn't appear to be so dramatically affected.

Nick just shrugged nonchalantly like it had been no concern at all, but when he saw Renard looking at him with a raised eyebrow and amused look he realised his bluff was called. "Okay, well, it was a shock when I heard it all too," he admitted, "but I'll ask you something that will help."

Hank nodded, suddenly more focused and pleased for anything that would bring normalcy back into his life.

"Has anything important changed?" Nick asked seriously. "Renard might be Wesen and he might be a king but he's still the man you thought he was this morning. In the important ways, he hasn't changed."

As he considered his partner's words, something did settle in Hank's mind. It was a fair statement Nick had made and as Hank thought about it he looked to his captain once again and realised the man was still the same one who had their backs during investigations, who was a fair boss, and who did his best for his officers and the public. Hank sighed and at long last, he felt something in him relax back and the world started to right itself once again.

"Okay..." he said with a small smile. "I guess I can understand that."

Renard and Nick both breathed out audibly though they tried to hide their relief.

"I have some more questions though," Hank said hesitantly, not knowing whether it was fine to push for more information. He might have accepted Renard was still the same man, but that man was still a king as he couldn't deny it was a _little_ intimidating to have learned that fact.

"Sure," Nick said, and Renard gave his nod of assent too.

"Right," said Hank as he looked between the two men. "So Nick works for you as a cop and as a Grimm, yes?"

"No." It was Renard who answered. "He works for me as a cop and _with_ me as a Grimm."

Hank nodded slowly as he worked it out. "So, you're...?"

"Partners," said Nick confidently, but that was quickly followed by an inexplicable wave of embarrassment that flowed through him as Hank gave him a look of disbelief.

"_Another_ one?" Hank said, shaking his head incredulously. "Okay, just tell me now – are there any _more_ partners you're going to spring on me?"

"Ha ha," Nick drawled, but he blushed all the same knowing it was an awkwardly fair question. "Different type of partner," he clarified to move the conversation along. "Renard and I work together to make sure both the Wesen and human population are protected from any rogue Wesen elements."

"Like Richter," nodded Hank, understanding.

"Exactly," said Renard, joining in. "I have a network of Wesen informants who let me know when there's someone that needs bringing back into line."

"And that's my job," said Nick, and the Grimm behind his eyes looked out. "I do the reminding. Often on my own, sometimes with Monroe, and sometimes even with Renard. It depends on the crime."

Hank was impressed. He was feeling an emotion close to awe for his friend who he had thought was a good cop but now he saw that was only the tip of the iceberg. He also felt a pull towards what they were doing together. When he had been manipulated by Simon Richter he had felt the same calling – the urge to protect people from creatures that could hurt them. It was a natural extension of his cop instinct. Now that he properly understood that Wesen were really no different to humans, he wanted to be involved in that world too where he could.

Nick had the same thought. "You could join us," he said. There has been a silent exchange between him and Renard before he spoke which had confirmed the king was in agreement.

Before giving his answer, Hank said the doubt that had already come to his mind. "I want that, but I would just get in the way."

He motioned to his friend. "You're a Grimm – you're born to do this and you have abilities to make you excel at it. And _you_," he said, motioning to Renard, "You're part of that world and already have the information and power to be valuable. And your friend Monroe? Well his strength speaks for itself." He gave a small shrug. "Me? I can't even _see_ Wesen anymore, and that means I can't defend myself from them easily. I want to help but what use am I?"

"Plenty," said Nick, not doubting his partner for a moment. "I'm not saying it won't be more difficult for you because you can't see them like we can, but that's only part of the work. We can protect you. No ordinary Wesen would dare attack you knowing you're our friend, and we can make _sure _they know. But it you get into trouble with someone you can tell is Wesen – and there are sometimes other ways to tell that I can teach you – well, you're a cop: just hit them, shoot them or arrest them." He gave a sidewards grin.

"He's right," agreed Renard. "Though please keep the hitting and shooting to a minimum if there's a chance of it becoming public, as you'll just make more paperwork for yourself."

Hank hoped that was a joke so he tried a slight grin in response.

"You're a trained cop," Renard continued, seriously. "You're far from defenceless. You're also partnered with Nick and he can be your eyes when you're out on the streets. That counts for a hell of a lot."

Hank found himself being convinced, as he knew he wanted to be. He wanted to make this work and he would train in any way possible to hold his own as a member of their team.

"So... you're one of us?" said Nick, a sparkle in his eye as he smiled at his partner.

Hank grinned back. "Oh, _hell_ yeah," he replied with a wide grin, and the three men stood facing each other, behind closed doors, where a new partnership in that moment was forged.

...

After an appropriately silent moment to respect the importance of the new change, Renard cleared his throat and motioned to his watch. "Sorry to interrupt this, but I have a meeting so we have to wrap this up."

Nick and Hank nodded, letting themselves fall back into the cop world though Nick had more practice adapting than Hank yet had. "We should all meet up at Monroe's later," Nick said to his colleagues. "We need to make a plan for dealing with Richter."

"I'll meet you there after my meeting," agreed Renard. "It shouldn't take too long."

"Hank and I can brief the floor for you and let them know we're now treating Richter as a suspect as we've uncovered holes in his story. We could even say we'll bring him in for questioning," Nick suggested with a calculating look in his eye. "It would be worth laying the groundwork on that as it would be good to have a suspicion of Richter's guilt in place in everyone's minds before we make our own move."

Renard was pleased. Nick had become sharper at playing a few steps ahead of the game since they had begun working together in the Wesen world. It was a useful skill to master. "Do it," he said with a nod, and the two detectives left the room to start the ball rolling.

...

It was half an hour before Nick and Hank managed to wrap up their briefing after taking some questions and making sure any urgent paperwork was up to date. They were now in Nick's car on their way together back to Monroe's house, after a promise from Renard that he would not be long behind.

Nick put his cell on speaker and dialled Monroe's home.

"Monroe, huh?" said Hank as he saw the name on Nick's phone.

Nick had the decency to look a little embarrassed as it was only a few hours ago that he had lied to Hank's face and pretended not to know the watch repairer.

"Alright," Nick said with a roll of his eyes, "I can't take that lie back so can we move on?"

Hank gave a forgiving smile coupled with a shrug, knowing this would probably be one of many little moments when they would come across old deceptions now revealed as such. He didn't dwell on it though as at that moment the call was answered.

"Hey," said Nick into his phone. "You're on speaker. Hank and I are on our way over and Renard won't be far behind. Just letting you know."

"Was that so difficult?" replied the voice on the other end of the line with overdone martyrdom. "See, a little advance warning won't kill you."

"Ha ha," Nick drawled, humouring his friend and knowing full well that while Monroe used to hate unexpected guests he now seemed to secretly enjoy them. "By the way, Hank knows everything now."

There was a pause laden with significance. "_Everything?"_

"Yeah," Nick confirmed. "Renard and _everything."_

"Woah." Another pause. "You're handling that well for a human, Hank," he finished, sounding almost grudgingly surprised. "Finding out your partner's a Grimm and your boss is Wesen royalty, all in one day? Most people's brains would have turned to swiss cheese by now. I'm kind of impressed."

"Uh, thanks I suppose..." Hank said, unsure quite how best to respond.

"Anytime," replied Monroe, deliberately choosing to overlook the uncertainty in Hank's voice. "See you both soon then."

"See you," agreed Nick and ended the call.

They drove on in companionable silence for a few more minutes before Nick could tell Hank wanted to ask him something but hadn't yet spoken up. Eventually it became too much and Nick let out a loud exhalation. "What?"

Looking almost guilty at being caught out, Hank wavered a few more moments before speaking. "Oh... yeah... I just wanted to ask a question...?"

Nick was a little curious about the hesitation in Hank's voice. "Go for it," he said with a quick glance away from the road and over to his partner.

"I don't know if I want to know the answer, but here goes..." Hank started. "What's the captain?" He realised he wasn't been that clear so tried again. "I mean, what _type_ of Wesen is the captain?"

Nick just let out a short laugh, surprising his partner. "If you find that out," he replied with a wide grin, "let me know, as your guess is as good as mine."

Hank looked surprised. "You don't know? I would have thought..."

"...that I would have seen him change by now? That he would have told me?" Nick finished. "No, he still likes some things to be private and he's got far too much control to let himself slip in front of me."

Hank started to look concerned about Renard's secrecy, but Nick just gave him a relaxed, reassuring smile. "Don't worry – he's on our side and that's all that's important. I used to almost think I had the right to know what Wesen were around, but really, I don't. I learned to respect their privacy, as I do with Renard." He gave a significant pause and glanced over at his partner. "Anyway, you want to piss off the King of the Portland Wesen by disrespecting his boundaries? Or, come to think of it, you want to piss off _Captain Renard_?"

Hank let out a barking laugh at the thought. "_Hell_, no," he said with feeling. "I see your point. The man deserves his privacy."

They shared another grin and the mood was considerably lightened as Nick drove the last few streets to Monroe's home.

...

The front door opened before they had made it fully up the front steps, and while Hank looked surprised, Nick just gave a casual tilt of his head. "Blutbad," he explained to his partner, tapping his noise. "He can smell us coming."

"I could have lived without knowing that," muttered Hank quietly with a slightly uncomfortable look as he entered the house.

"We have excellent hearing too," Monroe grinned, giving Hank a slightly too rough pat on his back as he walked past him.

To his credit, Hank didn't look back, which was for the best as Nick was barely stifling a half-swallowed laugh behind him.

They all made their way back in the living room which looked far more civilised now the window had been repaired.

"That was quick..." said Nick, surprised, noticing the glass.

Monroe rolled his eyes. "Repeat customers get priority service," he said pointedly.

Nick chose to ignore the obvious jibe and instead casually motioned for Hank to take a seat as though it was his house not Monroe's. He then went to fetch drinks for them from the kitchen. As he did so he was aware somewhere at the back of his mind that he felt more comfortable at Monroe's now than he did anywhere else, but it didn't bother him and it certainly didn't seem to bother Monroe, for all his melodramatic complaints.

Nick returned to the living room and took a seat on the couch while Monroe took his usual chair. Hank had relaxed reasonably considering what had taken place in that room only an hour or so ago.

"So..." said Monroe as he relaxed back in his chair and took a swig of beer, "how're we going to take down Richter?" he said by way of raising the matter at hand. "We can't leave the final take down to just any cops." He gave an apologetic look to his companions. "Sorry, but if he breathes of anyone trying to arrest him, they'll freak out when they see what he really looks like, and I'm _sure_ he'll make sure to show them his real face."

Nick nodded. "Good point." He motioned to himself and Hank with a wave of his hand. "_We_ need to have him arrested though to close off our case, so it'll have to be me and Hank that take him in."

Hank sat back and watched his two companions start pitching ideas for how best to proceed. He found it incredible how much of a life Nick had established for himself in so short a time after finding out he was a Grimm. Here he was, not struggling alone in a terrifying world he didn't understand, but instead he had befriended one of the very creatures – _people – _his instincts should have told him to kill, and from that friendship had come all the support and strength he needed to not only survive but _thrive._

Watching Nick and Monroe throw ideas back and forth about their plan was amazing. They worked together just like he and Nick did as cop partners. Hank hated to admit it, still feeling an irrational twinge of jealousy about Nick's ease and familiarity with Monroe, but they worked well together. They planned like professionals, knowing how each other worked best, Nick's cop training supplying the strategy and Monroe's knowledge of the Wesen world providing the intel they needed. They were an unconventional pair but they made one hell of a team.

"What if he starts talking about Grimm and Wesen down at the station?" joined in Hank as he pulled his mind back to the task at hand and started thinking through the possibilities. "Could get messy."

Nick didn't seem as concerned about that as Hank would have thought. "No one would believe him," he said with a shrug and a satisfied smile. "That is the silver lining about all this - it's all pretty unbelievable unless you _know_ it's true. People make up some crazy stories to try and talk their way out of being arrested..."

A small grin crept over Hank's face. "That's true. He'll dig his own grave if he tries that one down at our station," he said, looking a little too pleased at the idea. "The captain's never had much patience for the ones who try to dodge convictions that way, and I don't see him feeling any different this time."

They all shared a smirk at the thought and as they did so, the captain himself rang the doorbell to announce his presence.

"Speak of the devil..." Monroe said with a feigned shiver and rose out of his chair to open the door.

Renard gave a small smile and a nod and he greeted Monroe and walked on through to the living room to take a seat on the other end of the couch to Nick. "How's the planning going?" he asked, looking mainly towards Nick as he spoke.

As Monroe went to fetch Renard a drink, Nick quickly updated him on what they had just been discussing moments before.

"All good points," Renard said with an approving nod, as Monroe re-entered the room and handed him a glass. "Here's my thoughts..." He waited for a short moment while Monroe re-seated himself and then continued.

Hank listened and watched as Renard started talking and the planning began in earnest. Nick stood on equal footing with Renard as they debated ideas together about how to work their plan in a way that would bring a satisfactory conclusion to their police investigation as well as stop Richter's threat to the Wesen population. Hank was impressed at Nick's calm assertiveness, speaking every bit as the experienced Grimm and capable partner to the Wesen king. Renard for his part was equally as comfortable with this other side to their relationship, not at all affronted by Nick's frankness and in fact encouraged and buoyed by it. Hank could see clearly the respect Renard had for Nick. He could also see the captain – no, the _king_, Hank reminded himself – was a different person. There was a darker side to him, more ruthless, but underneath it there was a stability that Nick's presence brought out. They balanced each other; two sides of a coin.

"We'll do the take down at Richter's home," concluded Renard as their plan begun to solidify. "Hank can lure him out to give us time to prepare, and then lure him back there when we're ready for him. He doesn't suspect Hank so there shouldn't be a problem there."

"And what are we preparing while at his home?" pushed Nick, eager to get moving. The Grimm within him was stirring restlessly as talk of the impending confrontation called to its very nature.

Renard just smiled and leaned back with a sharply satisfied glint to his eye. "Well, something like _this_..."

...

Night had begun to fall as Nick, Hank and Renard finally walked out into the quiet street to set their plan into action.

They all returned to the station and while Renard stayed a while there to set the paperwork rolling on the takedown, Nick and Hank only stayed long enough to quickly sign out surveillance equipment before they were back in Nick's car and driving in the direction of Richter's home. After a short while, Hank made the call to lay the trap.

"Simon? It's Hank," he said into his phone as the quiet hum of the car engine served as background noise. "I have a lead on the Grimm – I think I've found something we can use to track him down. I can't get away from work long today though and I'm driving back there now. Can you meet me at the cafe a couple of doors down from the station?" Hank smiled, relaxing slightly as Simon must have replied in the affirmative on the other end of the line. "Great – see you soon." He ended the call and looked over to Nick.

Nick gave him a quick grin back. "So far, so good," he said, pleased.

They had waited to make the call until they were close to their destination, and Nick pulled quietly in to the curb. A few minutes waiting was all it took before Richter exited his house and drove away.

Nick and Hank got out of their car and casually made their way up to the front door of the old white stone mansion, and Hank stood guard while Nick picked the lock. As they quietly let themselves, Nick gave a low whistle. "Family money?" he asked. The interior, while as lacking in regular maintenance as the exterior, still spoke of wealth. He left the door unlocked but closed, and paced a few steps into the entry hall.

"Yeah," said Hank, looking around though he had been there once before. "It's his great aunt's place. She moved to a nursing home and the house has been empty since so Simon's been using it while in Portland." He had answered automatically but now his face fell a little as he realised it could all have been a lie. "Well...that's what he told me anyway."

Nick just nodded, understanding. "Let's get to work then," he said, tactfully changing the subject.

They stood facing a large marble staircase leading to the upper level, and off to the sides were two large living rooms, one with dusty sheets covering the furniture and the other that looked like it had been freshly cleaned and was in use since Richter had taken residence.

They began systematically working their way through each room in the house, searching for evidence as to what exactly Richter had planned for his plot against the Grimm, and for any other clues of what he might be scheming.

They planted surveillance equipment as they went, starting with the living room which was the focus of their trap. They then moved upstairs, quickly and efficiently planting their recording devices in case they couldn't contain their trap to their chosen room. They searched each room, but most held nothing out of the ordinary. Just a plain bathroom, next to two bedrooms, and further down the upstairs corridor was a generous storage closet set into wood panelled walls.

The next door down though, at the far end of the corridor, revealed a nasty surprise. Nick was the first to reach it and pushed upon the door as he peered inside. He swore quietly under his breath.

"What?" Hank asked, covering the ground between them. He looked around the door and saw what his partner had discovered. "_Hell..."_

Inside must have once been a large study, but the furniture from the centre of the room had been pushed aside and in its place was a large metal table with straps attached, clearly meaning to restrain a victim. The side tables and low shelving around the walls of the room were lined meticulously with an array of horrific looking weapons, medieval in nature, as well as bottles of assorted substance. Some contained foul looking liquids while others held shapes almost organic in look.

To Hank's untrained eye, it was a torture chamber full of oddities. To Nick, it was a room full of weapons and substances that could specifically be used to hurt Wesen. Both men let out low whistles of revulsion at the sight.

"What is it all?" asked Hank, as they hesitantly entered the room and started searching around. He walked up to the table and fingered one of the straps – leather entwined with metal and soaked in some substance that had dyed it a murky red in colour. He gave an involuntary shudder and looked over to his partner.

Nick was eying the room professionally, but not with a cop's eye. There was something Hank could see in his friend, and had seen before. Something looking out from behind Nick's eyes. Something older and darker.

"Nick...?" Hank said, a little softer.

Nick looked over and whatever was watching through him was no longer there. He raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Yeah?"

"What is all this?" Hank motioned around the room.

There was a moment while Nick's eyes darkened again but then he spoke. "Ways to torture Wesen," he replied simply. Walking over to the nearest shelf, he pointed along it to various bottles and implements. "This is a Panzerstachel, it is one of the few things that can pierce the scales of a Panzertier. And this... You dip this dart in poison, usually Gefrorener Tod, and it causes temporary paralysis in most Wesen." Nick picked up a strange looking weapon, made of steel and which looked like a long blunt shaft. "This is for Sandbewohner. They can't stand the cold – it burns them – so if you push this against their skin..."

His voice trailed off as he saw Hank's expression. It was a mixture of amazement and horror.

"What?" Nick asked, suddenly wondering if he had shared too much too quickly. He knew this was new to his partner and silently chided himself for not censoring his explanation to be less confronting to someone already overwhelmed.

Hank couldn't quite come to terms with the surreal scene of his friend of many years explaining casually about Wesen and the best weapons to use against them. "You've learned a lot," he managed finally.

"I've had to," Nick replied simply.

Hank was fast understanding that. He had thought it before but it was something that seemed to be drilling itself home within him. Nick had taught himself how to survive in another _world_ and he was good at it. Better than good; he was smart, unpredictable and dangerous. No wonder the King of the Portland Wesen wanted him on side.

"Doesn't it ever freak you out?" Hank pushed, feeling like there must be some times Nick felt like he was losing sanity.

"Not anymore," Nick shrugged. "Being a Grimm isn't that different to being a cop. There are bad guys and good guys in both worlds, and I do what's needed to maintain order." He gave a slight sympathetic smile at his partner. "The details are different, that's all, but you'll get used to it and I've got your back."

Hank gave a disbelieving look like he couldn't imagine ever being fully at ease with the world of Grimm and Wesen, especially as he was such an outsider, but he was glad for Nick's attempt to reassure him.

They fell into silence again as they continued looking through the upstairs study, searching the room thoroughly.

"Look at this…" said Hank after a few minutes, and Nick turned around to see what he had discovered. Hank was standing over an old-fashioned wooden desk looking troubled at the scattering of papers he was reading.

Nick made his way over to his partner. "What is it?"

Hank just looked up and motioned to the top sheet which was covered in neat handwriting. Bending over to have a closer look, Nick began reading it and swore. He looked to Hank in deep concern.

"If this is what Richter's been planning, then it's worse than we thought," he said darkly.

"I hear you," Hank agreed slowly. "We thought he was just after you, but what he writes here…" Hank pointed at a line that had been underlined over and over again and began reading it aloud: "'The King must be punished for his weakness. The Grimm will fall and the King will die for having ever allowed him to live.'"

They stared at each other appalled.

"You don't think…?" Hank started saying, haltingly, but he couldn't finish his sentence.

Nick didn't answer for a moment as his mind raced, knowing exact what his partner meant. "No…I don't think he would have done anything to Renard yet as he wants to deal with me first," he replied carefully. "I'll give him a call just in case though…" His voice trailed off as he reached for his cell and left a quick message on Renard's phone warning him of their discovery.

"We better keep looking," said Hank, dragging his eyes away from the damning pages. "Monroe should be here soon and then it's time for me to make the next call."

Nick nodded in agreement and they made their way out of the disturbing room and back down the stairs. They tried a doorway next to the main living room and Hank entered first, searching for the light switch. He flipped it on and yelled out in shock, stumbling back a few steps. Nick had his gun drawn and was in the room faster than he should have been able to move.

"Oh, for Christ's _sake_…," Nick sighed a split second later, lowering his weapon and giving Monroe a disapproving look.

Monroe, for his part, was looking a little affronted at the reaction he had caused following his arrival. "Well, I didn't _ask_ him to walk right into me…" he muttered. "You could have stopped him..."

In the few seconds since his shock, Hank's heartbeats finally calmed down and he glared at the Blutbad. "How could he have stopped me? He didn't know you were lurking in the dark!" He gestured at Nick as he spoke and then stopped short as he noticed Nick's expression. There was awkward guilt all over it. "_Nick_…" he drew out accusingly, somewhat puzzled.

"Sorry," Nick mumbled. "I knew he was there; I'm just not used to letting anyone _know_…" He saw the look of confusion on Hank's face so shrugged and kept talking. "You remember the special Grimm abilities I mentioned having? Well, being able to sense Wesen is one of them."

Hank stared at him. He knew he shouldn't be so awed after everything he had heard that day, but seeing Nick actually use his Grimm skills was still amazing to him. "That's… cool, actually," he admitted, his face stretching into a grin.

Monroe beamed from next to him. "Think that's good? You just wait until he _really _gets him Grimm on. Now _that's _something worth seeing."

Nick felt a slight blush creeping into his cheeks at all the attention, so he waved his hand at his two companions and cleared his throat. "When you two have finished gossiping, we have actual _work_ to do."

Neither Hank nor Monroe fell for Nick's disapproving act for a moment, and both didn't even bother hiding their grins. Hank forced himself back to business though. As much as he enjoyed these light moments, Nick was actually right – they did have work to do.

Hank took his cell out. Now they were all there, it was time to make his second call.

He dialled Richter's number. "Simon?" he said, feigning frustration. "I'm sorry but I got called away again so can't make it to the cafe. Can I meet you at your place instead? It's closer. I'm nearly there now. Do you mind…?" He held his breath as he hoped Richter would go along with the planned inconvenience. "_Great_," he said finally after a tense few seconds. "I'll see you soon." He ended the call with a satisfied air.

"And now we wait," said Nick, the Grimm behind his eyes glinting dark anticipation at the impending action.

...

They spent the time waiting for Richter's arrival in the living room. Nick and Monroe talked casually to each other, while Hank felt more nervous than a seasoned cop should have been, but that was only because the newness of the Wesen element made for a greater tension within him. He watched his two companions as they talked; sometimes discussing what else was happening in the Wesen world, and at other times talking about the most mundane of topics.

All throughout it, Hank observed Nick. It fascinated him how much his partner had changed; how different he was in this other world. It wasn't that Nick wasn't confident as a cop because he most definitely was, but there was a stature and power to him when he was channelling the Grimm. Nick understood the world he watched over, and he had the demeanour of a leader who knew well the role he now held. He was both a stranger and the man Hank had always known, and Hank felt in awe of what he had become.

Suddenly as Hank watched, Nick and Monroe both stood simultaneously at some unspoken prompt. Monroe sniffed the air and Nick reached behind his gun holster to smoothly slide out the Wesen blade concealed behind.

"What?" asked Hank in a hushed voice, also rising and looking towards the door though he guessed the answer. "He's here?"

Nick nodded, repositioning the blade in his hand so that it stayed pointed backwards, slightly out of sight.

Hank couldn't hear anything yet, and again he felt amazed at the surreal moment he now found himself in, where he had so easily accepted that Monroe could smell Richter and Nick could sense him coming.

"Your blade..." he said suddenly, realising this wasn't the time to mention it but it was as though one more thought fell into place in his mind, and he now knew he had not imagined seeing it that day Nick had come to his house.

Nick looked distractedly down at his weapon. "Wesen blade," he explained. "Guns don't work on everything and I don't want forensics to find my bullets in a dead body one day." He gave an expert flick of the blade in his hand, showing the strange glint to the steel. "It's been treated with Giftwasser – literally 'Poison Water' – which is not usually fatal but definitely toxic to most Wesen if it reaches their bloodstream, so... a good back up to a gun."

Hank just nodded, a little at a loss for words.

The sound of the front door unlocking brought his attention back to the priority of the moment and he tried his best to look casual while Nick and Monroe silently moved to press themselves flat against the walls on either side of the living room's double entry doors.

The sound of footsteps became louder until Simon Richter finally stood framed in the entrance to the living room.

He stared in confusion at Hank. "How did you get in my house?" When Hank didn't reply straight away, Simon walked a few steps into the room, and that was all they needed.

Nick and Monroe quietly closed the doors behind him, effectively sealing him inside. Simon spun around at the noise and backed up a few paces upon seeing the obvious threat standing so close.

"I found the Grimm," said Hank calmly, with a cold smile. "I thought you might like to meet him."

Nick tilted his head in a mock greeting, darkness glinting in his eyes. "I hope you don't mind I brought a friend."

Monroe let his inner beast show and Simon stared in horror.

"What have you _done_…?" Simon turned back to Hank as he spoke, his emotions shifting between fear, confusion and anger as he realised the cop he had been using was smarter than he had thought. "How did you – "

"Know?" finished Hank, anger and condescension in his voice as he worked to control himself. "Well, it turns out the Grimm is none other than my partner, and he let me know the truth of the Wesen world. As for his friend next to him… well he can smell _exactly_ what you are."

Simon stared, knowing there was no point carrying on the deception any longer. He could not believe he had been so close to reaching the Grimm. Had fate only conspired for him to run into Hank's partner instead that night… The thought spiked frustration and fury in him and his face contorted in hatred.

"I'll kill you _all_ then," Simon sneered, twisting his head back and forth to glare at the three men. "I came to this town to have a little fun, to scare some stupid humans with glimpses of 'monsters', and instead I hear there's a Grimm here. A _Grimm,_ that your king not only allows to live but lets run off leash!" He looked in disgust at Nick. "I don't know why the Wesen of this city protect your identity. The amount of them that I've had to torture but they _still_ wouldn't talk which just proves what I'm doing is right – they fear you too much. They won't be safe until you're dead along with their king, and then the Wesen of this city can reclaim their rightful place again."

"And what place would that be?" asked Nick, a dangerous fire in his eyes.

"One where they can do as they please without fear," Simon replied with mad conviction.

Hank shook his head in disbelief. "So you've been stalking Wesen to make them talk?" he said, astounded. "What about John Connell? Why did you stalk him? Why kill him? He was human_ – _he wouldn't have known anything _about_ the Grimm." The insanity of it all was incredible.

Simon just laughed, a maniacal edge to the sound. "Oh, that's the name of the man I stabbed the night we met, was it?" he said, chortling to himself. "Oh, that was _fun._"

Seeing Hank's horrified expression, Simon gestured grandiosely as he continued speaking. "The fates let me have him," he said with real pleasure. "I did recognise him that night as some man on the street I'd breathed on a few weeks before perhaps, but to find out he had tracked me down? How clever!"

The madness in his eyes shone a terrible light.

"He had to die, obviously. I stabbed him but the stupid man ran away and that foolish Hamsterfreund tried to protect him from me. A _Hamsterfreund, _would you believe! I had been playing games with it, following it; I thought I might just interrogate it next." He was shaking his head at the ridiculousness of such a timid creature being able to stand against him. "It was just pure luck they ran into you as I was chasing them, and so when I saw you were a cop with a gun I just breathed on you and let nature take its course - you saw a monster and you killed it."

"And then you used the resources I can access to see if I could help you track down the Grimm," growled Hank in disgust. "You're crazy."

Simon just gave a nasty grin. "Well, it _worked, _didn't it...?" he said, looking over in Nick's direction. "I wanted the Grimm and you found him for me."

Nick stared back; the Grimm heard its name and it bayed for blood. "Well, I'm right here," he replied, voice low and dripping with threat. "Take your best shot."

Simon let out a growl, barely human in sound as he finally transformed into the Schleierheber that he was. His features became angular and deeply shadowed, almost ghoul-like, and his mouth gaped unnaturally wide, his teeth retracting back to create a black cavern from where a putrid air began to swirl within.

Nick didn't pause to think. He ignored the revulsion that had spiked within him and propelled himself forward towards the Schleierheber. Monroe, who had kept quiet during the conversations now leaped forward with equal ferocity and speed to his partner, both men slamming into Simon at the same time and flattening him to the floor. Simon exhaled with a grunt as the air left his lungs and Nick and Monroe caught the breath directly in the faces as they held him down.

Their vision left them instantly. Nick cried out, slashing out with the blade in his hand and hearing a cry of pain that let him know he had made contact. He fumbled blind for a grip on Simon but a fist slammed into his face and he grunted in shock and pain, dropping his blade and falling to the side as he felt blood running from his nose. Monroe was suffering a similar fate, having been kneed in the stomach and while Simon didn't have the brute strength to contend with a Blutbad, Monroe was caught off-guard by the darkness that engulfed him and he tried to scramble away to regroup.

Hank, who had been temporarily frozen to the side when Simon had transformed, tried now to join the fray but in the momentary chaos Nick lashed out in the wrong direction and caught his partner full-force in the chest, sending him barrelling with incredible speed against the fall wall. Hank hit it with a crash, knocking the air from his lungs and it was only pure luck that his ribs didn't crack on impact. His own eyesight left him as he slumped down to the floor as he struggled to stay conscious.

"Did you think I can only affect humans?" taunted Simon as he stumbled to his feet and began lurching awkwardly to the door. The toxin from Nick's Wesen blade was starting to affect him but he fought for control. "I can open human eyes to things they couldn't see before, but for anyone who _could_ already see us...? Well, my breath has the opposite effect – it _blinds_ them." He laughed cruelly as he reached the door and turned the handle. "Sorry to leave, but I'm sure we'll meet again soon."

Seeing that Nick and Monroe were recovering fast, Simon turned and gathered what strength he had left to stumbled out the door, making it only a few steps before slamming full force into Renard who had finally arrived at the house not moments before. Renard grunted at the impact but kept his balance, pushing hard against Simon's chest in retaliation and sending him flying back into the centre of the room where Nick and Monroe were struggling to regain their vision.

"This soon enough?" growled the king, anger in his eyes.

He didn't enter the fray, instead holding back to create a menacing guard at the door on the unlikely chance the Schleierheber would reach it again.

As Simon went flying backwards, the Grimm within Nick forced itself to the surface, the accuracy of his ability to sense Wesen heightening ten-fold as it compensated for his temporary blindness. He reached his arms out and grabbed hold of Simon as he came crashing into his arms. Next to him Monroe pushed to his knees, relying more on his sense of smell and hearing to track the movements nearby, and he lashed out with a hand, claws sharpened, and caught Simon across the back.

Simon cried out and tried to angle himself to force another poisonous breath against his attackers, but at that moment a gunshot cracked through the noise of the fight and Nick and Monroe instantly fell back and away from Simon, looking through clearing blur for the source.

It was Hank, who had recovered enough to have pulled himself to a standing position and was now holding his weapon and watching with cold detachment as Simon howled in pain and clutched at his leg. Nick and Monroe both stared at him, caught off guard a moment following the sudden end to the fight.

"What?" said Hank. "I might be mainly useless against Wesen, but I _can_ still shoot them."

Nick slowly stood up, retrieving his blade as he did so, and looked down at the fallen Schleierheber. "Thanks," he said finally, still sounding a little surprised that it was over.

Monroe nodded in agreement, dusting off the front of his clothes in a curiously meticulous way as he rose from the half-crouch he had been in. "Yeah, I suppose shooting him works too," he admitted. "Not as fun though."

Nick looked over, appalled, but Monroe didn't look at all ashamed. "You were thinking it too, so you can wipe that sanctimonious look off your face."

Nick dropped his pretence and grinned back. "Yeah, okay," he muttered under his breath and reached down to wipe his blade clean on the protesting Schleierheber's shirt before sliding it back behind his gun holster again.

Hank caught his eye as he did so. "I get that Wesen weapons are important, but you have to admit part of why you're using that blade is that it looks damn _wicked._" There was more than a glint of teasing in his eyes so Nick decided he wouldn't take the bait and just looked back innocently.

The mood in the room had definitely lightened, partly due to the post-battle endorphin rush. They did return to the business at hand, though, as there was still work to be done. Noticing a long piece of material that was being used as a side table covering, Nick went over and pulled it off before bringing it over to Simon and binding his wound, roughly pushing away the protesting Schleierheber's hands as he did so. Simon was too weak to be a threat anymore, and the wound was not fatal. Hank was a good shot so the angle of impact was more to incapacitate than cause serious injury.

"Why don't you just kill me, _Grimm?" _snarled Simon as he lay on the floor, grimacing through the pain.

"Kill you?" Nick just smiled. "No. If we wanted you dead Hank would have just shot you in the head. We're going to _arrest_ you."

Simon looked taken aback for a moment but then his expression turned derogatory. He turned his head to look at Renard instead and a sneer twisted his face. "So the king of this city can't even stomach having his pet Grimm kill his enemies. I knew this city was weak."

"If you'd like to resist arrest I'd be more than happy to kill you myself," Renard replied, low and dark, the words almost an invitation. "I just find the paperwork inconvenient_."_

The almost _hungry_ look in Renard's eyes frightened something primal and deep within the Schleierheber. He stumbled for a brave reply for a few beats of his heart, but Renard continued speaking before Simon could recover his bravado.

"I'll say this once," the king said, his voice low and commanding. "This is my city and I'll rule it as I see fit. The Grimm stands _with_ me not against me making us a force you can never _hope_ to challenge."

He motioned to the corners of the room and for the first time Simon saw a microphone and taping equipment positioned discreetly almost out of sight.

"My detectives will arrest you now and you will confess to the murder of John Connell. If you don't I will make sure that tape surfaces and you will also be charged with plotting to murder the police chief as well as attempted murder of my detectives and an innocent bystander..." He motioned to Monroe who was looking anything but innocent as the adrenaline of the fight sparked in his eyes. "_And_," Renard continued, "if you think we wouldn't want to release a recording where you speak of the Wesen world, you'd be quite wrong. Portland still remembers the serial killer of a few months ago who suffered from delusions that such creatures are real, and I'd be more than pleased to describe you as a copy cat killer or even an accomplice of his if you'd prefer. That should add some interesting material to your trial."

The look in Renard's eyes almost dared Simon to misbehave.

Simon looked from the king, to the Grimm, to the Blutbad, and then over to the damning recording tape. There was silence for a moment as he considered his options, or lack of them. The pain in his leg was piercing but he stubbornly bit back a gasp of pain as he curled his lip and gave a small, bitter nod of acquiescence.

That was all Renard needed. "Sebastian," he said loudly, and through the door behind him came his trusted servant, neatly dressed and holding a briefcase. Everything was unfolding to plan.

Sebastian didn't need any instruction but moved quietly and efficiently to remove the recording device and pack it into his briefcase. He then removed some duct tape from the case and ripped a small length off, taping it firmly over Simon's mouth, effectively stopping any reckless thoughts the Schleierheber might have still held of breathing on anyone again. None of Renard's companions asked why the man kept tape in his suitcase as it was quite clear the answer was not something they really wanted to know. As Sebastian walked back to the door again he gave Renard a respectful bow before exiting as quietly as he had come.

"That guy gives me the willies," murmured Monroe, staring with a disturbed look after the silent man.

Nick gave a small smile, knowing part of the reason for his friend's ongoing dislike of Renard's servant was the man's lack of scent which Monroe seemed to be taking personally.

Hank, for his part, was staring at Renard, clearly freshly amazed at seeing a Wesen actually _bow_ to his captain. Even knowing Renard was a king didn't quite make the moment any less surreal. He looked to Nick who didn't seem to feel anything was out of place, and so Hank just shook his head at the craziness of his new life.

"Take Richter back to the station for processing," Renard was saying as Hank returned from his thoughts. Hank, happy to be back in familiar territory, took out his handcuffs and began reading Richter his rights while handcuffing him and pulling him to his feet.

"Good work," Renard continued, and as Hank glanced over he saw it was he that his captain was looking to. "I mean it. You're an asset to our team."

Hank felt himself glow with pride at the compliment, knowing his captain was trying to put an extra effort in to make him feel acknowledged after his eventful day. He looked to Nick who was beaming at him in pleasure. He started to feel self-conscious. "Thanks, sir," he said, "that means a lot."

Renard gave a small, pleased nod. "I'll meet you both back at the station to wrap this up," he said to both his detectives. He gave a farewell nod towards Monroe. "See you at the dojo next week."

He turned without another word and strode out the room.

"Dojo?" said Hank as they heard the sound of the front door closing behind Renard. He looked to Nick quizzically.

Nick just gave an enigmatic smile. "Let's save that for another time," he replied. "I think we've blown your mind enough for one day."

Hank almost laughed. "Yeah, that's probably true." He gave a small pause as though reflecting on his thoughts for a moment and then looked over to Monroe. "You fight well for a clock repairer," he said with a small quirk of his mouth.

Monroe gave a shrug, deadpan. "You never know who you might run into in the perilous world of horology."

Nick stifled a snort of laughter. "Okay, you two," he said, looking to his two companions in clear delight that there might actually be the start of a friendship there. "Time to leave."

"Yes, _boss_," Monroe grumbled, shooting Nick a rebellious look. He then looked to Hank. "Does he act like that with you, too?"

"Hell, yeah," replied Hank, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "He can be a difficult partner."

"I hear you," sighed Monroe.

Nick just rolled his eyes as his friends continued cementing their own bond at his expense. "Alright, you've had your fun," he said, amused. "Can we leave now, _please?_"

They grinned at him. "After you," said Monroe with a grandiose gesture towards the door.

Nick laughed quietly to himself. His Blutbad friend quite clearly had far too much excitement for one evening.

As he walked ahead, leading the way out the front door of the house, Nick felt a peace settle deep inside him. Behind him were his two best friends, and now they _both_ knew and accepted him for who he really was. It was a relief he couldn't even put in words after so many long months of lies and deceptions.

They were his partners and his friends and while he knew there were secrets he still kept from some in his life, he was happy one more piece of his world had clicked neatly into place.

As Nick reached his car and waited as Hank directed Simon into the back seat, he looked to Monroe and their eyes met for a moment as they shared a private smile.

_This is where I belong_, Nick thought to himself with satisfaction, and the Grimm deep within him rumbled its agreement_._

.

**The End**

.

.

**..._Glossary_...**

Atztroll = Acid Troll

Gefrorener Tod = Frozen Death

Giftwasser = Poison Water

Hamsterfreund= Hamster Friend

Panzerstachel = Scale Spike

Panzertier = Armoured Beast

Sandbewohner = Sand Dweller

Scharfzähne = Sharp Tooth

Schlafweber = Sleep Weaver

Schleierheber = Veil Lifter

Versteckter Geist = Hidden Ghost

Wieselgesicht = Weasel Face

_.**  
**_

_**...Thank yous**_...

.

A special thanks to all the lovely reviewers of my first story who motivated me to write a sequel, and a special note to the anon reviewer who suggested the idea of a creature that has the ability to let humans see Wesen in their true form. That was the perfect concept to build this story around. And last but definitely not least, a very big thank you to Nazgullover who kindly and patiently helped with the German words - I couldn't have done it without you!


End file.
